iDecember 1970
Malvolio wafted across the rooftops of Morrisville's neighborhoods. He was hunting, deprived of his source of power.
His black heart filled with rage. Rage for the old man. And rage for the boy.
He stopped at a small, two story home and fluttered almost noiselessly towards the window. This was the home of Dr. David Francis Stantz and his wife Carolyn, where he and his children lived, slept, laughed, and played. Not a care in the world to bother them.
But Malvolio knew and remembered that the family had endured a personal loss: the oldest boy, Carl, had been convicted of assault and attempted robbery. Instead of being thoroughly punished for his crime, the oldest Stantz boy was instead sent to a reform school, where the men teach the boys how to be soldiers.
That is what his "master" had told him. And from the brief conversations he had had with Raymond Stantz, there was no doubt that the loss had been felt deeply.
Because of the gloom that had wrapped itself around Raymond, Malvolio thought he had found the perfect avatar to restore him to power, so that he may have exacted his revenge against the old man. But the boy Raymond had been too weak-hearted to have held the same ideals that he had. No doubt a goody-goody.
The old man had also been the wrinkle in his plans as well, saving the life of the other boy and weakening Malvolio as well, confining him back to that infernal tesseract within the pen. In the process, Malvolio lost his avatar as Raymond tried to get rid of him.
"How unfortunate", the demon thought to itself, "that he'll never learn he cannot destroy me that easily."
In front of him, he noticed the Stantz family having a quiet moment together, as they were decorating their Christmas tree. Malvolio sneered mockingly at them.
The father was busy trying to untangle his daughter from the lights that surrounded her. She laughed as he sighed in exasperation at the frustration of it all.
The mother was hanging her own decorations that had a tinge of the Celtic culture about them.
And his enemy, the boy Raymond, was sitting in a small corner of the room watching it all, oblivious Malvolio's eyes. The boy was smiling and laughing with his family. He was actually having a good time.
Yes, Malvolio's hatred for the boy grew. He wanted to kill the boy. But not now. There would be time for that eventually. After all, there were other, more personal losses that can kill a man spiritually but not physically./i
. . .
Ray could hardly believe how exceedingly close to the Christmas holidays it was. Yet, even more so for the fact that Carl was coming home.
The first few weeks after he had been sent off to St. Martin's Academy (a military academy in Albany), were the toughest for Ray's family. His father tried not show his sadness by engulfing himself more and more into his practice, coming home late from the city that Ray hardly saw his father except on Sunday. When he did come home at late hours, he would be found asleep in his study, fully clothed and mumbling words like "sartorius transverses the patella" and "the deltoid is medially connected to the upper forearm". Often, Carolyn would put a cover over her husband as he slept and kiss him on the forehead. For her, the time had been also been rough.
Ray noticed how quieter she had become, especially when she prepared dinner. She had always been a bit chatty when cooking but now she barely spoke a word. She didn't even watch her soap operas anymore, opting instead to immerse herself in the cleaning of the house. She never cleaned Carl's room, a sad reminder that Carl hated having his room tidied by anyone other than himself.
Jean took the weirdness in the house pretty well. Without an older sibling to compete with, she began to award herself her parent's attention. Often, she would regale her mother with stories of what happened at school and at Mrs. Corrigan's house, but Ray knew his mom wasn't listening. She was off somewhere else.
For Ray, he didn't do much himself to keep his mind off of Carl. At school, word had spread that he and Alan Favish had actually met the ghost of Powell Mansion. Ray had a feeling that Favish's friends had probably spread the rumor around that Ray had run out before the allotted time. In fact, that very Monday, Ray was ready to face his class and be called a chicken.
But didn't quite happen that way; Favish had, it seemed, retold his experience with the ghost of Powell Mansion. Nobody, not even Elaine, believed him. Even James Corrigan, the kid whose hair began to turn gray after he'd spent a night in the house, didn't buy Favish's story.
What surprised Ray the most was the Favish hadn't bothered to mention Ray's name in all of this. Perhaps, as Ray thought, Favish wanted people to believe that he had really faced the ghost all by himself, in order to make himself look good. It backfired completely.
What had mostly occupied Ray's mind was the whereabouts of Malvolio. He had thrown the pen away, knowing hardly anybody fished where he threw it. But what bothered Ray was what if Malvolio came back? What would he do then? And what would he, Ray, do whenever Malvolio did come back? Call Boo Radley?
"Hey Ray", David said, interrupting Ray's thoughts. "You want to help free your sister over here?"
"Sure Dad", said Ray going over to his father and sister. Jean was standing in a box marked LIGHTS. His father was shaking his head and laughing at the same time.
"Why don't we just plug Jeannie in instead?" Ray suggested sarcastically. Both his father and Jean laughed. His mother did not.
"What a horrible thought Ray", Carolyn scolded sternly. "We might as well put her on top of the tree."
Whatever was going on inside Ray's head, he did not want to show it in front of his family. What was important now was that he was here with them and they were about to be together again.
It was at that moment that the phone rang. David got up to answer it, leaving Ray to handle his sister.
"Hello?" he said into the receiver. Ray watched his father's expression change several times, as his face showed an expression of puzzlement.
"How'd this happen? Uh-huh, well I can imagine that. Alright I'll ask Carolyn if she wants to go. Thanks, bye."
"Who was that honey?" asked Carolyn as David hung up the phone and walked back to the living room.
"Robinson, my intern at the office. Apparently, he got some tickets to go the Alhambra dinner theater production of A Christmas Carol tonight and something came up suddenly and he can't go."
"So what'd he need with you?"
"He didn't want to waste the tickets, so he asked me if I wanted them."
"That sounds swell Pop", Ray said. He knew that his father and mother rarely went out on evenings to themselves and well deserved for this one.
"So what do you say hon?" David asked Carolyn. She thought about it for a few seconds before asking:
"Do you think that Ray and Jean will be all right by themselves for three hours?"
"Absolutely. I mean, Ray's getting old enough where he doesn't necessarily need us to hold his hand every step of the way. He and Jean have to learn responsibility and I trust them both."
Ray swelled with pride at his father's words, and tried to stifle a tear back.
"Well," Carolyn said, "I guess. When does it start?"
"In about two hours. That gives us plenty of time to get ready."
As his parents walked upstairs, Ray knew that things were certainly beginning to be all right with the world. The drama that had proceeded in the months before tonight seemed a million years ago to him.
. . .
"Now remember Ray, do not open the door for anybody you don't recognize and if something bad happens call Jack Fuhrman."
"I will Mom", Ray said obediently to his mother and nodded his head.
"And no fighting with your sister."
"Yes Mom."
"Alright. Be a good boy and we'll be back before you go to bed." Carolyn hugged Ray by the neck and kissed him on the cheek, then did the same to Jean.
"Enjoy the show!" he said to them both as they drove off in his father's gray Sedan. Ray noticed it was beginning to snow. As Ray began to step back inside the Stantz house, he felt a small shiver run up his spine as the air around him suddenly got colder. He shrugged it off, thinking little of it.
"Hey Jeannie, want to play a game?" he said coming inside.
"Sure, what one?"
"The Amazing Awesome Adventures of Captain Steel", Ray said grinning as he pulled it out of the top of the closet. It was a faded box with a superhero on the front seemingly beating up several criminals. "You can be Sinestro and I'll be Cap and..."
"That's alright", Jean said suddenly yawning. "I feel sleepy all of a sudden. I think I'll go on and go to bed." As Jean began climbing the stairs to her bedroom, Ray could not help but giggle behind her and turn on the television. At least he wouldn't have to share the television that night. Just in case she did come back down, he began to set up the board game.
. . .
David and Carolyn Stantz had been down the road a little bit when David first saw the black dog.
"You know honey", Carolyn had said earlier, "You really ought to have your headlights checked. They look a little dim."
"Yeah, I think you're right. I didn't imagine it'd be this dark out", David replied. "Heck, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that that wasn't a lump in the middle of the road."
"That's not a stump David!" Carolyn said as they edged closer. "That looks like a---"
"A DOG!" David shouted as he slammed on the brakes. Sure enough, in the middle of the road, there was a small black dog walking in the way of David Stantz's Sedan. It looked up sadly, and, rather than try to walk faster, it continued at its snail's pace.
David barely missed hitting it, but realized very quickly that he was beginning to lose control of the car. Ice had formed on the road that now made it very slick. David tried pressing hard on his brakes, trying to gain some kind of control over it, but the car continued to skid amid Carolyn's screaming.
"Don't worry Carol!" David said, trying to calm his wife down. "I've got it all under con-" He didn't finish his sentence as his Sedan wrapped itself around the trunk of a huge oak tree.
David groggily got out of the car, blood dripping from a wound in his head. Passing in and out of consciousness, he fell down several times.
"Are you all right Carolyn?" He asked as he went over to his wife's side of the car. He heard her groan, which lifted his hopes a little.
"Yeah Davy", she said, her native accent creeping back into her tongue. "I'm fine, but---I can't seem to get out of this damned seatbelt."
"Okay whatever you do, don't panic. I'll be over there." Suddenly, he felt something brush up against the side of his leg, making him jump a little bit. Looking down, his fear quickly turned to anger as he realized that it was the old black dog that David had tried to miss.
"Get the hell away from me!" he shouted at it and kicked the dog in its stomach, making it whimper. The dog ran away from David towards a small clearing on the other side of the road.
"What was that David?" Carolyn asked.
"That effing dog", he said angrily as he began pulling on his wife's car door. "Ugnh. Your door seems a bit stuck. Maybe if I broke the window, I could pull you out from there."
"Please hurry David, I think I smell the gas leaking out." For Dr. David Stantz, these words the last words that he would ever hear from his wife in this world again.
It all happened quickly: David felt a hot flash sear his right cheek that quickly brought him to his knees. The next thing he saw was a blinding light that threw him back several feet. He landed in the trunk of another tree, which knocked him out. When he came to, he was greeted by a terrible sight.
His gray Sedan, the very car many of his friends had ridiculed as a "deathtrap" was nothing more now than a soldering wreck. And his beloved wife, the very light of his life, was gone forever. He walked a few towards it, his left arm broken limping slightly at his side and his right leg dragging behind him. Blood was pouring both from his head wound and the one on his cheek. But then he stopped and fell towards the ground to his knees, and bowed his head. He was crying, cursing, and pounding the dirt with his good arm.
"Why?" was all he could muster himself to ask the loneliness around him, not expecting an answer.
"Because", answered a voice, "it had to be done." David looked slowly to the direction of the voice, and was both surprised and afraid of what he saw. Illuminated by the light of the fire from the car, David could see that it was a very large figure, draped in the darkness that surrounded them both. The figure was wearing a fedora that reminded David of the one that the Shadow wore in those old pulps.
"You look surprised Dr. Stantz", it said grinning at him. "I just killed your wife and soon I will kill your son and all you can do now is continue to stare at me."
David felt his anger flare up as he slowly pushed himself from the ground with his good leg and arm to face the creature.
"You son of a bitch!" he said slowly, becoming more incensed at the creature's continuous grin. "You did this—this, /i to my..." He couldn't even bring himself to say his wife's name, turning away from the creature so that he wouldn't give it any pleasure to see him cry.
"That's right Dr. Stantz, hate me with all you can muster! Pleasure yourself with the thought of my impending death! Let yourself relish with all your rage! Be..."
"SHUT THE F UP!" David shouted at it and, for reasons he quite didn't know why, propelled himself at it, hoping that it was solid enough for him to wrap his hands around its throat.
It was, much to David's delight. Being a doctor, he didn't have to guess where the creature's throat was, even if it was taller than he. He poured every ounce of strength he had left in his good arm into his hand as he squeezed, hoping to crush the larynx of the creature.
"What else have got to say, now?" David asked it, tears streaming down his face, a smile carved onto his face. "You have killed my wife, but you won't ever touch my son you sonovabitch! I won't let you live that long!"
David heard the creature struggling for breath, as it tried to push David off of itself.
"Come on, say some thing else now! You wanted my hatred now you've got it!" Then, to David's sudden surprise, the creature's eyes turned towards him. In between gasps for breath it said:
"Thank you, because that is what I wanted."
Raising both its hands, it fired hot ectoplasmic energy at David that wrapped itself around his head. David fell off of the creature, landing hard on the ground scraping at the spell that was upon his skull. The creature watched in sick awe as David writhed and withered on the ground, struggling for air in much the same way that the creature had only moments earlier.
David gasped as the ball of ectoplasm slid off of his head, revealing its damage: his skin had burned badly, to the point where facial muscles were now translucent. His hair was gone and his had gone bloodshot.
"I shall let your son know how much of a valiant fighter you were", the creature said, preparing itself for another attack. David knew he could nothing, but instead closed his eyes and awaited his final fate, as a bright light enveloped itself around him...
. . .
Halfway across Morrisville, while watching one of his Dr. Crowley movies, Ray suddenly fell out of his chair. He didn't know what had happened; all of a sudden, his entire body felt as if it were engulfed in a searing pain that he had never known before. As quickly as it had begun, the pain was over. He'd have to tell his father about that when he got home, Ray thought, thinking it was one of those muscle spasms that run all over ones body. Yawning, Ray decided to turn in for the night.
. . .
It was about two in the morning when Ray heard the doorbell ring. Sitting up immediately, Ray knew it was weird for anyone to be knocking at this late hour, but then remembered that it often happened whenever the coroner, Mr. Doolan, needed Ray's father.
Ray laid himself back down on his bed, knowing his father would soon been making his way downstairs to answer it. Strangely enough, he didn't hear anybody get up to go to the door. Getting out of his bed, Ray quickly went to his parents' room and peered inside. Their beds were still made. Checking on Jean, Ray went downstairs to see who was at the front door.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Jack Fuhrman", said the voice on the other side mournfully. "Can I come in?"
Ray unlocked the door; there, standing on the stoop of the Stantz home, was Captain Fuhrman. Despite the darkness, Ray noticed that the Captain was not wearing his customary hat but was instead holding it one hand.
"Is something wrong Mr. Fuhrman?" Ray asked as the Captain walked inside. Ray turned on one of the lamps near where the family Christmas tree was. He quickly saw that the Captain looked suddenly older than the last time he had seen him: his face actually looked etched with sadness and he had not bothered to trim his quickly growing mustache.
"Yes there is Ray", the Captain said with great sorrow. "It's about your parents."
Ray sat down on his father's footstool and listened. "Are they all right?" he asked. The Captain turned away from Ray for a second, as if he didn't want to answer right away.
"Are they all right?" Ray asked again.
"Your father drove a gray Sedan, didn't he?"
"Yes sir, he did."
"We found it—well what remains of it—about ten miles from your house, down by Washington Woods. Wrapped around the trunk of on oak tree."
Ray breathed in heavily, hoping against hope that the next words Captain Fuhrman spoke wouldn't be what he thought.
"Were they okay?" Ray asked, nearly stammering.
"No", Captain Fuhrman said plainly. "Ray, I'm sorry to be the one to say this. Your parents are dead."
Malvolio wafted across the rooftops of Morrisville's neighborhoods. He was hunting, deprived of his source of power.
His black heart filled with rage. Rage for the old man. And rage for the boy.
He stopped at a small, two story home and fluttered almost noiselessly towards the window. This was the home of Dr. David Francis Stantz and his wife Carolyn, where he and his children lived, slept, laughed, and played. Not a care in the world to bother them.
But Malvolio knew and remembered that the family had endured a personal loss: the oldest boy, Carl, had been convicted of assault and attempted robbery. Instead of being thoroughly punished for his crime, the oldest Stantz boy was instead sent to a reform school, where the men teach the boys how to be soldiers.
That is what his "master" had told him. And from the brief conversations he had had with Raymond Stantz, there was no doubt that the loss had been felt deeply.
Because of the gloom that had wrapped itself around Raymond, Malvolio thought he had found the perfect avatar to restore him to power, so that he may have exacted his revenge against the old man. But the boy Raymond had been too weak-hearted to have held the same ideals that he had. No doubt a goody-goody.
The old man had also been the wrinkle in his plans as well, saving the life of the other boy and weakening Malvolio as well, confining him back to that infernal tesseract within the pen. In the process, Malvolio lost his avatar as Raymond tried to get rid of him.
"How unfortunate", the demon thought to itself, "that he'll never learn he cannot destroy me that easily."
In front of him, he noticed the Stantz family having a quiet moment together, as they were decorating their Christmas tree. Malvolio sneered mockingly at them.
The father was busy trying to untangle his daughter from the lights that surrounded her. She laughed as he sighed in exasperation at the frustration of it all.
The mother was hanging her own decorations that had a tinge of the Celtic culture about them.
And his enemy, the boy Raymond, was sitting in a small corner of the room watching it all, oblivious Malvolio's eyes. The boy was smiling and laughing with his family. He was actually having a good time.
Yes, Malvolio's hatred for the boy grew. He wanted to kill the boy. But not now. There would be time for that eventually. After all, there were other, more personal losses that can kill a man spiritually but not physically./i
. . .
Ray could hardly believe how exceedingly close to the Christmas holidays it was. Yet, even more so for the fact that Carl was coming home.
The first few weeks after he had been sent off to St. Martin's Academy (a military academy in Albany), were the toughest for Ray's family. His father tried not show his sadness by engulfing himself more and more into his practice, coming home late from the city that Ray hardly saw his father except on Sunday. When he did come home at late hours, he would be found asleep in his study, fully clothed and mumbling words like "sartorius transverses the patella" and "the deltoid is medially connected to the upper forearm". Often, Carolyn would put a cover over her husband as he slept and kiss him on the forehead. For her, the time had been also been rough.
Ray noticed how quieter she had become, especially when she prepared dinner. She had always been a bit chatty when cooking but now she barely spoke a word. She didn't even watch her soap operas anymore, opting instead to immerse herself in the cleaning of the house. She never cleaned Carl's room, a sad reminder that Carl hated having his room tidied by anyone other than himself.
Jean took the weirdness in the house pretty well. Without an older sibling to compete with, she began to award herself her parent's attention. Often, she would regale her mother with stories of what happened at school and at Mrs. Corrigan's house, but Ray knew his mom wasn't listening. She was off somewhere else.
For Ray, he didn't do much himself to keep his mind off of Carl. At school, word had spread that he and Alan Favish had actually met the ghost of Powell Mansion. Ray had a feeling that Favish's friends had probably spread the rumor around that Ray had run out before the allotted time. In fact, that very Monday, Ray was ready to face his class and be called a chicken.
But didn't quite happen that way; Favish had, it seemed, retold his experience with the ghost of Powell Mansion. Nobody, not even Elaine, believed him. Even James Corrigan, the kid whose hair began to turn gray after he'd spent a night in the house, didn't buy Favish's story.
What surprised Ray the most was the Favish hadn't bothered to mention Ray's name in all of this. Perhaps, as Ray thought, Favish wanted people to believe that he had really faced the ghost all by himself, in order to make himself look good. It backfired completely.
What had mostly occupied Ray's mind was the whereabouts of Malvolio. He had thrown the pen away, knowing hardly anybody fished where he threw it. But what bothered Ray was what if Malvolio came back? What would he do then? And what would he, Ray, do whenever Malvolio did come back? Call Boo Radley?
"Hey Ray", David said, interrupting Ray's thoughts. "You want to help free your sister over here?"
"Sure Dad", said Ray going over to his father and sister. Jean was standing in a box marked LIGHTS. His father was shaking his head and laughing at the same time.
"Why don't we just plug Jeannie in instead?" Ray suggested sarcastically. Both his father and Jean laughed. His mother did not.
"What a horrible thought Ray", Carolyn scolded sternly. "We might as well put her on top of the tree."
Whatever was going on inside Ray's head, he did not want to show it in front of his family. What was important now was that he was here with them and they were about to be together again.
It was at that moment that the phone rang. David got up to answer it, leaving Ray to handle his sister.
"Hello?" he said into the receiver. Ray watched his father's expression change several times, as his face showed an expression of puzzlement.
"How'd this happen? Uh-huh, well I can imagine that. Alright I'll ask Carolyn if she wants to go. Thanks, bye."
"Who was that honey?" asked Carolyn as David hung up the phone and walked back to the living room.
"Robinson, my intern at the office. Apparently, he got some tickets to go the Alhambra dinner theater production of A Christmas Carol tonight and something came up suddenly and he can't go."
"So what'd he need with you?"
"He didn't want to waste the tickets, so he asked me if I wanted them."
"That sounds swell Pop", Ray said. He knew that his father and mother rarely went out on evenings to themselves and well deserved for this one.
"So what do you say hon?" David asked Carolyn. She thought about it for a few seconds before asking:
"Do you think that Ray and Jean will be all right by themselves for three hours?"
"Absolutely. I mean, Ray's getting old enough where he doesn't necessarily need us to hold his hand every step of the way. He and Jean have to learn responsibility and I trust them both."
Ray swelled with pride at his father's words, and tried to stifle a tear back.
"Well," Carolyn said, "I guess. When does it start?"
"In about two hours. That gives us plenty of time to get ready."
As his parents walked upstairs, Ray knew that things were certainly beginning to be all right with the world. The drama that had proceeded in the months before tonight seemed a million years ago to him.
. . .
"Now remember Ray, do not open the door for anybody you don't recognize and if something bad happens call Jack Fuhrman."
"I will Mom", Ray said obediently to his mother and nodded his head.
"And no fighting with your sister."
"Yes Mom."
"Alright. Be a good boy and we'll be back before you go to bed." Carolyn hugged Ray by the neck and kissed him on the cheek, then did the same to Jean.
"Enjoy the show!" he said to them both as they drove off in his father's gray Sedan. Ray noticed it was beginning to snow. As Ray began to step back inside the Stantz house, he felt a small shiver run up his spine as the air around him suddenly got colder. He shrugged it off, thinking little of it.
"Hey Jeannie, want to play a game?" he said coming inside.
"Sure, what one?"
"The Amazing Awesome Adventures of Captain Steel", Ray said grinning as he pulled it out of the top of the closet. It was a faded box with a superhero on the front seemingly beating up several criminals. "You can be Sinestro and I'll be Cap and..."
"That's alright", Jean said suddenly yawning. "I feel sleepy all of a sudden. I think I'll go on and go to bed." As Jean began climbing the stairs to her bedroom, Ray could not help but giggle behind her and turn on the television. At least he wouldn't have to share the television that night. Just in case she did come back down, he began to set up the board game.
. . .
David and Carolyn Stantz had been down the road a little bit when David first saw the black dog.
"You know honey", Carolyn had said earlier, "You really ought to have your headlights checked. They look a little dim."
"Yeah, I think you're right. I didn't imagine it'd be this dark out", David replied. "Heck, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that that wasn't a lump in the middle of the road."
"That's not a stump David!" Carolyn said as they edged closer. "That looks like a---"
"A DOG!" David shouted as he slammed on the brakes. Sure enough, in the middle of the road, there was a small black dog walking in the way of David Stantz's Sedan. It looked up sadly, and, rather than try to walk faster, it continued at its snail's pace.
David barely missed hitting it, but realized very quickly that he was beginning to lose control of the car. Ice had formed on the road that now made it very slick. David tried pressing hard on his brakes, trying to gain some kind of control over it, but the car continued to skid amid Carolyn's screaming.
"Don't worry Carol!" David said, trying to calm his wife down. "I've got it all under con-" He didn't finish his sentence as his Sedan wrapped itself around the trunk of a huge oak tree.
David groggily got out of the car, blood dripping from a wound in his head. Passing in and out of consciousness, he fell down several times.
"Are you all right Carolyn?" He asked as he went over to his wife's side of the car. He heard her groan, which lifted his hopes a little.
"Yeah Davy", she said, her native accent creeping back into her tongue. "I'm fine, but---I can't seem to get out of this damned seatbelt."
"Okay whatever you do, don't panic. I'll be over there." Suddenly, he felt something brush up against the side of his leg, making him jump a little bit. Looking down, his fear quickly turned to anger as he realized that it was the old black dog that David had tried to miss.
"Get the hell away from me!" he shouted at it and kicked the dog in its stomach, making it whimper. The dog ran away from David towards a small clearing on the other side of the road.
"What was that David?" Carolyn asked.
"That effing dog", he said angrily as he began pulling on his wife's car door. "Ugnh. Your door seems a bit stuck. Maybe if I broke the window, I could pull you out from there."
"Please hurry David, I think I smell the gas leaking out." For Dr. David Stantz, these words the last words that he would ever hear from his wife in this world again.
It all happened quickly: David felt a hot flash sear his right cheek that quickly brought him to his knees. The next thing he saw was a blinding light that threw him back several feet. He landed in the trunk of another tree, which knocked him out. When he came to, he was greeted by a terrible sight.
His gray Sedan, the very car many of his friends had ridiculed as a "deathtrap" was nothing more now than a soldering wreck. And his beloved wife, the very light of his life, was gone forever. He walked a few towards it, his left arm broken limping slightly at his side and his right leg dragging behind him. Blood was pouring both from his head wound and the one on his cheek. But then he stopped and fell towards the ground to his knees, and bowed his head. He was crying, cursing, and pounding the dirt with his good arm.
"Why?" was all he could muster himself to ask the loneliness around him, not expecting an answer.
"Because", answered a voice, "it had to be done." David looked slowly to the direction of the voice, and was both surprised and afraid of what he saw. Illuminated by the light of the fire from the car, David could see that it was a very large figure, draped in the darkness that surrounded them both. The figure was wearing a fedora that reminded David of the one that the Shadow wore in those old pulps.
"You look surprised Dr. Stantz", it said grinning at him. "I just killed your wife and soon I will kill your son and all you can do now is continue to stare at me."
David felt his anger flare up as he slowly pushed himself from the ground with his good leg and arm to face the creature.
"You son of a bitch!" he said slowly, becoming more incensed at the creature's continuous grin. "You did this—this, /i to my..." He couldn't even bring himself to say his wife's name, turning away from the creature so that he wouldn't give it any pleasure to see him cry.
"That's right Dr. Stantz, hate me with all you can muster! Pleasure yourself with the thought of my impending death! Let yourself relish with all your rage! Be..."
"SHUT THE F UP!" David shouted at it and, for reasons he quite didn't know why, propelled himself at it, hoping that it was solid enough for him to wrap his hands around its throat.
It was, much to David's delight. Being a doctor, he didn't have to guess where the creature's throat was, even if it was taller than he. He poured every ounce of strength he had left in his good arm into his hand as he squeezed, hoping to crush the larynx of the creature.
"What else have got to say, now?" David asked it, tears streaming down his face, a smile carved onto his face. "You have killed my wife, but you won't ever touch my son you sonovabitch! I won't let you live that long!"
David heard the creature struggling for breath, as it tried to push David off of itself.
"Come on, say some thing else now! You wanted my hatred now you've got it!" Then, to David's sudden surprise, the creature's eyes turned towards him. In between gasps for breath it said:
"Thank you, because that is what I wanted."
Raising both its hands, it fired hot ectoplasmic energy at David that wrapped itself around his head. David fell off of the creature, landing hard on the ground scraping at the spell that was upon his skull. The creature watched in sick awe as David writhed and withered on the ground, struggling for air in much the same way that the creature had only moments earlier.
David gasped as the ball of ectoplasm slid off of his head, revealing its damage: his skin had burned badly, to the point where facial muscles were now translucent. His hair was gone and his had gone bloodshot.
"I shall let your son know how much of a valiant fighter you were", the creature said, preparing itself for another attack. David knew he could nothing, but instead closed his eyes and awaited his final fate, as a bright light enveloped itself around him...
. . .
Halfway across Morrisville, while watching one of his Dr. Crowley movies, Ray suddenly fell out of his chair. He didn't know what had happened; all of a sudden, his entire body felt as if it were engulfed in a searing pain that he had never known before. As quickly as it had begun, the pain was over. He'd have to tell his father about that when he got home, Ray thought, thinking it was one of those muscle spasms that run all over ones body. Yawning, Ray decided to turn in for the night.
. . .
It was about two in the morning when Ray heard the doorbell ring. Sitting up immediately, Ray knew it was weird for anyone to be knocking at this late hour, but then remembered that it often happened whenever the coroner, Mr. Doolan, needed Ray's father.
Ray laid himself back down on his bed, knowing his father would soon been making his way downstairs to answer it. Strangely enough, he didn't hear anybody get up to go to the door. Getting out of his bed, Ray quickly went to his parents' room and peered inside. Their beds were still made. Checking on Jean, Ray went downstairs to see who was at the front door.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Jack Fuhrman", said the voice on the other side mournfully. "Can I come in?"
Ray unlocked the door; there, standing on the stoop of the Stantz home, was Captain Fuhrman. Despite the darkness, Ray noticed that the Captain was not wearing his customary hat but was instead holding it one hand.
"Is something wrong Mr. Fuhrman?" Ray asked as the Captain walked inside. Ray turned on one of the lamps near where the family Christmas tree was. He quickly saw that the Captain looked suddenly older than the last time he had seen him: his face actually looked etched with sadness and he had not bothered to trim his quickly growing mustache.
"Yes there is Ray", the Captain said with great sorrow. "It's about your parents."
Ray sat down on his father's footstool and listened. "Are they all right?" he asked. The Captain turned away from Ray for a second, as if he didn't want to answer right away.
"Are they all right?" Ray asked again.
"Your father drove a gray Sedan, didn't he?"
"Yes sir, he did."
"We found it—well what remains of it—about ten miles from your house, down by Washington Woods. Wrapped around the trunk of on oak tree."
Ray breathed in heavily, hoping against hope that the next words Captain Fuhrman spoke wouldn't be what he thought.
"Were they okay?" Ray asked, nearly stammering.
"No", Captain Fuhrman said plainly. "Ray, I'm sorry to be the one to say this. Your parents are dead."