It was 1982 when Allen Hale began his revenge. A year after everything had taken place. Not only did he lose his job and a good friend in that time, but also his family. He told his wife what happened and somehow it caused the last pillar of his happiness to crumble to ruin.
"How could you let this happen, Allen?" His wife was in tears and Allen knew no way to stop it. "What will we do with poor Shannon?"
"Michelle, please! Just calm down." He took her hand in his and held it, hoping that it would stop this madness. "There's no logical reason for you to be so upset with me."
"No logical reason?!" She was hysterical now, and a child's cry could be heard above them. "You've done nothing but complain about this Maxwell guy since the first day he came in, and you expect me to believe that you don't have something against him?"
"What are you saying?! You don't think I've caused any of this, do you?!" He hadn't meant to scream but he was angry at the suggestion.
"How would I know if you didn't?" She snatched her hand out of his and stood up from the small kitchen table they'd been sitting at for the past hour. So far all they'd accomplished was yelling and upsetting their daughter. "Everything was just fine until you had to go play detective and investigate him! Now look at what you've done. Why didn't you just leave him alone?" Another cry sounded and she turned to head to its source.
"Michelle, wait. Please. I'm sorry I yelled at you but please don't be angry with me." Allen had lowered his voice and was now tightly holding onto his wife's arm as if she would evaporate at any second.
"Is that all you're ever worried about? Yourself? What about our child, Allen? Do you really think it's okay for her to hear this? Honestly. We just lost our sole source of income and thanks to you being nosy we may not get another." That was true. Maxwell made certain that Allen Hale would never be able to work in another pharmaceuticals lab again. This was his worst nightmare as they had no other source of money coming in. Michelle's persistent illness kept her from working and was preventing his money from being spent on much else and, despite all his hard work at Memorial, he couldn't figure out how to help her to save his life. Or better yet hers. "I'm sorry about this, Allen," she said as she slipped her arm out of his iron grip and began fiddling with the piece of jewelry on her left ring finger.
"Oh dear God no," he whispered.
"This isn't working anymore..." She began to pull off the ring.
"Michelle... Please, it isn't true. I care about you... and Shannon too. Please don't do this to me."
"There you go again," she said bitterly. "You're always worried about yourself." She handed him the ring and walked away, leaving him speechless and numb. Stopping in the doorway she added, "It's always 'and Shannon,' isn't it? Well, we'll get the papers and then you can go on your merry way. That way you won't have to worry about me. Or Shannon. I'll take care of her." With that she left him standing alone in the dimly lit room. He could just barely make out the light thumping and creaking as she went upstairs to calm their daughter. No, her daughter. He was no longer a part of the equation.
"Shit... what have I done...?" He slowly sank to the floor all the while cradling the ring as if it would allow him to rewind time and fix all of this. "My wife..." It took him a few moments to realize that the strained voice was his own and that the moisture on his face was tears. When did he even start crying?
"Shhhh... It's alright, Sweetie." Overhead, he could hear Michelle's gentle voice consoling Shannon and wished that he was on the receiving end of it and not the cause of her anger. "Daddy and I were just having a heated discussion. You know what those are, right? When people don't agree with each other and try really hard to prove their points?" He swore he heard a slight crack in her voice but was too busy sobbing to notice. Why didn't he just do what Philip said and leave Maxwell alone? If it wasn't for him and his stupid morals then none of this would have happened. Maybe his and Michelle's relationship wasn't the best, but surely it wouldn't have come to this had Maxwell not done what he did.
"That bastard... He'll pay." That was the moment Allen decided he'd get revenge on Maxwell. His life was ruined because of that man. Now he was going to return the favor.
It didn't take long for the divorce papers to be completed. Once everything had checked out Allen Hale found himself officially without a wife. He was all alone. There was no one left for him to turn to and the only company he had was his own anger and bitterness. They were currently holed up inside a very small and cheap apartment together.
"That damn sicko," he growled while reading an article about Maxwell in the paper. Apparently, the man had successfully created a cure for a little girl's illness and was being praised all throughout the country for it. It wouldn't be long before the whole world would end up eating out of the palm of his hand. "If only they knew the truth. Then they wouldn't love him so much." Allen had done a lot of research on George Maxwell and his family. A year with nothing better to do had given him plenty of time to study up. The things he uncovered on that man and his history, they were horrible.
The Maxwells were wealthy and they were considered one of the most noble families in existence. They could get absolutely anything they wanted, even order war if they felt like. That much he already knew. That had been very deep in the past, however. The more recent generations of Maxwells had dabbled in black magic, even going so far as to perform a few rituals for their own benefit. As it turns out Johnathan Maxwell, George's great, great, great grandfather, was unable to have children. It was not something he nor his wife were capable of. Both saddened and angered by this, he set to work trying to find a way around it. After all, it wouldn't do for the Maxwell name to just vanish into thin air. Eventually he came across different rituals he thought would work. None of them yielded any results. Except for one.
Allen was absolutely repulsed when he found out the truth behind George Maxwell's existence. Johnathan murdered two children-twins-to use in his sick ritual. He got his children, but as a consequence he spawned the supposed Maxwell Curse. Every couple of generations the 'Cursed Twins' would be born and were supposed to be buried under the Maxwell Tree, lest they destroy the entire family and wreak havoc. It wasn't just that one technicality in George's existence that angered Allen, (he wasn't really supposed to have been born considering the fact that Johnathan and his wife's infertility would've caused the Maxwell line to end) but also the subtle hints that many of Johnathan Maxwell's descendants may not have been entirely human. Those 'failed' rituals had had an affect after all.
By the time Allen had finally discovered this information, a year had passed. He had spent so much time rummaging through long-forgotten archives and well-hidden files that he hardly even noticed. It was shortly after his research was complete that he heard of his ex-wife's death. Her illness had finally gotten the best of her. Although he almost hated to admit it-almost-it didn't bother him much. After their divorce he felt shattered. Any remorse he felt from their last fight and the many others was crushed and replaced with a dark hatred. If she was going to be that way, then so be it. He could manage just fine without her and Shannon. It would've been troublesome to exact his revenge with a family anyway.
"Oh, who am I kidding?" It was so lonely without his family, no matter how small it may have been. One of the things he learned about Maxwell during his uncovering of his clouded past was that he was expecting children. Twins, to be exact, a boy and a girl. And he was a very firm believer in the Maxwell Curse. After Allen found out that little detail he finally understood a way to make Maxwell suffer like he had.
Rrrrrnnnngggg...
Click
"Hello? This is Philip Tate speaking."
"Hello Phil. It's been a long while, I know."
"A... Allen? Is that you?"
"Yes... it is."
"What? Why are you...? Are you okay? You sound a little out of it." There was no hiding the surprise and fear in his voice. Something had happened to Allen for him to call so out of the blue like this. They hadn't spoken since he left Memorial.
"I'm fine. I'm calling because I wanted to ask you a little favor. As an old friend."
"W-what kind of favor?" Philip really didn't like the tone in his former colleague's voice.
"You know of the Maxwell Curse, don't you?"
After he explained to Philip what he wanted to do to get back at Maxwell, Allen Hale waited for the opportune moment to strike. He practically stalked the man's every move. Then the night arrived when his children were born and he was out in the graveyard burying them beneath his family's infamous tree. When he was finished with the deed he silently disappeared into the black depths.
"Let's go, Philip," Allen said urgently once he was certain that Maxwell was long gone.
"I still don't think this is a good idea, Allen." Philip was hesitant, and for good reason. After the horrid threats George Maxwell had made to him and seeing what became of Allen, he knew that messing around with this man was a terrible idea. Not to mention what might happen to them if they unleashed the wrath of the curse.
"You'll never fully understand the importance of this, and I don't expect you to. All you need to understand is that while you were being an accessory to Maxwell's crimes, I was suffering deeply. I lost everything, Philip." The man winced. He'd never seen such a cold look in Hale's eyes nor heard such rage and bitterness in his voice. It was as if his friend had frozen up completely on the inside and he was speaking to the twisted, distorted reflection of what the man once was.
"This disgusting excuse for a human-no, this demon, has caused so many people so much pain. And it's that that's making me do this. You think I want to get involved with Maxwell again? I know the risks I'm taking, and if it means saving any more innocent lives from his twisted ideas then so be it. Now, let's get going shall we? We don't have much time." By that point it had begun to rain, and as Allen Hale and a very reluctant Philip Tate made their way towards the place where the children were buried it had turned into a downpour. The rain pelted the two of them and lightening streaked across the sky as they began to dig up the graves.
Please don't let this be a mistake, Philip thought as Allen uncovered the first child. It was a boy, wrapped tightly in cellophane and covered in mud.
"Dead..." Allen muttered. "Hurry and help me with the other one, Phil, before it's too late!" He complied, and their efforts were rewarded with a still-breathing little girl. "It's a good thing we got to her in time, huh?"
"Hm...? Oh, yeah..." Philip shined the flashlight on the girl's face to get a better look at her. She had light brown hair and was crying. As soon as Allen peeled off the last of the cellophane her screams became audible and he brought her close to his chest to quiet her.
"Shhhh... There, there. It's alright, Sweetie. You'll be just fine now." As he said this he could swear he heard Michelle's voice echoing the exact same words from so long ago. However, Philip clearly didn't hear any dead women so he assumed it was his imagination.
Eventually the girl stopped screaming, and then she stopped crying altogether. "She's asleep," he said. "She's a little angel, isn't she? I'm glad we got here in time." He was looking at her with a father's love and admiration. Philip said nothing as Allen cradled the newborn in his arms as though it were his own. Had this been a hospital room, with a loving mother in place of Tate, the image would have been far more appropriate. However, they were standing in a graveyard at night, pelted by unrelenting rain, and Allen Hale was holding the potentially cursed child of his mortal enemy, which they had just dug out of the dirt. Nothing at all was appropriate.
"I think I'll name her Alyssa. Yes. Alyssa Hale. What do you think, Philip?"
"I think this is insane!" A brief flash of lightening lit up the scenery enough for him to make out Allen's offended look. "There's absolutely no sense in this, Allen. What was the point in digging up that girl?"
"Would you have preferred to leave her? To let her die alone with absolutely zero understanding of why like her brother? What was done to these children is a horrible, unforgivable crime."
"Of course it is. Anyone with a sound mind would recognize that but even so..." He took a breath before continuing. "Tell me, Allen, did you really do this just to spite Maxwell or is there some ulterior motive behind everything?"
I can't tell him my true reasons. That would ruin the whole plan. "I know this child will grow up to be a major thorn in Maxwell's side. He wanted these two to die for a reason. We may have lost the one, but this one's alive. She's safe. I could never live with myself if I sat idly by and let a man murder two innocent children out of pure paranoia. People who turn a blind eye to such disgusting acts against humanity... Well, I can't imagine how they could possibly sleep at night." He aimed the last part specifically at Philip, who looked away in utter shame. "Let's leave before we end up with pneumonia." Allen started back up the hill to the car and Philip followed after a moment's pause. However, he caught a glimpse of something else sticking out of the ground. He knelt down and wiped off some of the mud.
"Allen, wait!" Allen, who had just reached the car and was starting to tuck the baby into a makeshift car seat, turned to look back down the hill. Philip had the flashlight shining on a golden object still mostly buried. "I've found something else under here!" He had to shout in order to be heard over the rain and thunder.
"Alright! Just give me another minute!" He continued to place the girl into the backseat and while Philip waited for him to make his way back down the hill he examined the object. All he could really tell so far was that it was gold and appeared to be some sort of statue. Whatever it was, it was giving him the creeps.
"What's the matter?" Allen was now right beside him and he pointed to the item.
"I think it's some sort of statue or something."
"Of course. I completely forgot about the statue." He began to remove it.
"W-wait a minute! Is this something we should be messing with?" They had already dug up the children. Maxwell was sure to find out about that sooner or later and he might somehow discover it was them and hunt them down. Philip shuddered at the thought of what he might do if he did.
"Don't tell me you're afraid? We've already gotten the kids. There's nothing worse that could come up. Besides, the Maxwell Curse is just a hoax; an old wives' tale. It's pure conjecture." Allen ignored his old friend's protests and warnings and pulled the thing out the ground. It was indeed a small statue. It was completely gold and its face was contorted into a twisted smile. Why anyone would make such a disturbing object was well beyond Philip.
"Can we just leave now, Al?" He wanted to get in the car and go home so he could spend time with his family and be as far away from that thing as possible.
"Yes. I've got everything I need now." They started back up the hill together but along the way Philip fell behind a bit.
"What have we done?" Giving the Maxwell Tree a final glance, he climbed into the car after Allen and they drove off into the night.
A/N: Like pretty much all my other stories, I probably won't update this very quickly. Still, I hope you enjoy. Also, Happy New Year! (even though there's only, like, one person reading this)
