Forever Indeed
Licking her quivering lips, Elizabeth hoarsely cried out.
He had tossed her down. She had scrambled for the stairs only for him to kick her away. Dirt had clambered beneath her elongating nails, as she crawled backwards into the darkness. Jerry's smile had widened, as he closed the door. Elizabeth had been imprisoned.
Elizabeth wailed again, scratching at the soil.
"I killed them." She called out. Her eyes were wide, but her heightened sight could not make sense of the basement Jerry had locked her in. "I killed them." She continued to weep, coughing harshly due to the dry cool air. She hiccupped, "I'm so sorry Sam – I killed them!"
Jane fiercely glared at Charley. "Explain yourself young man!"
Wincing, Charley spluttered incoherently.
Jane's scowl turned to Sam, as he calmly interrupted, "You'll want to sit down."
"Don't tell me what to do. You shouldn't even be here. Charley, what is going on? Tell me right now!" She shouted, crossing her arms indignantly.
Charley looked towards Amy. She also glowered at him, moving into the livingroom.
He gulped, cleared his throat and spoke, "Jerry is a vampire."
Jane swiftly spun round to glance at Sam. He nodded at her, pursing his lips.
Voice shaking, Sam exclaimed, "He turned Lizzie-beth into a vampire and has jus- just kil…" Taking a deep breath, chest heaving, he continued, "He just killed my parents."
Amy shook her head, "Seriously, like; a vampire?"
"Yes!" Charley hysterically laughed.
"Right," Jane gruffly dragged out. As Charley stared at her, trying to decipher her expression, she carried on less angrily, "Oh, this is a prank then." Taking a few steps towards her son, Jane lowered her voice, "This is for Amy isn't it? How did you get Sam to agree? He's a decent actor though, eh?" She turned to look again at the blood upon Sam, appreciating the work. "You're really going all out."
Dragging his hand down his face, Sam grunted, "Charley we really need to do something."
"Like what?" Charley yelled. He paced, ignoring Amy's scrutinising stare. He held up a hand, "We're inside." He stated. "Jerry's outside. He can't come in, so we should be fine so long as we stay in."
Sam sighed, "Yes, but we can't stay here forever Charley. Something needs to be done." He strongly insisted, emphasising with a determined facet.
Charley shrugged, "I don't think there really is anything else we can do."
Amy glanced at the window.
"Err, he's back." She hesitantly told them, pointing at Jerry's hastening image.
Equipped with a shovel, he grinned at them.
The porch torch made his teeth shine.
Fluorescent eyes glimmering, Elizabeth pounded her bloody fists into the earth again. They rose up. She smacked the palms against the sides of her skull, hair mushing. Small whines pierced her tightly closed lips. Eyes scrunching, nose harshly sniffing, Elizabeth forced her hands further against her head.
"Go away!" She screamed.
Her voice called back to her, as the sound bounced from wall to wall. Crying out, Elizabeth moaned to herself, "Why did you do that?" Fists against the soil again, she repeated louder, "Why did you do that?" The tone heightened and a slight sing-song broke into her structured question.
"Why did you do that?"
Shouting, fighting with the ground, Elizabeth discovered she was tearless. Anger brewed behind dry eyes. A rumbling rose from her gut. Elizabeth shakily stood. Feet firmly rooted, she took a step.
Her palms hastily bashed against her head once more, as the mental image of Jerry's smile descended upon her.
He had seemed so proud.
Wandering in, clapping.
Elizabeth shook her head viciously, muttering, "No, no, no… no."
"You never did like her," the low voice mumbled, gazing at the mess of the mother, "Tearing her apart was perhaps a bit much though… for your first time." Bending down to smoothly wipe the speckles from her cheek, he laughed, "You're a natural Love!"
"Go away!" she screeched.
Knees snapping, Elizabeth fell to the ground.
The warm blood pumping, feeding her heart, she incoherently hollered. The rush ran through her. She pounded her fists against the earth a last time. Pushing herself to her feet, standing straight, Elizabeth turned to the door. Un-necessary gasps escaped her. She stared at the door, whose metal tauntingly gleamed. Elizabeth gulped.
"I've got you Sam." She whispered with certainty.
Milling about through the kitchen cupboards, Charley was able to supply a bread knife and a vegetable knife. Though Sam loudly protested, Charley's mother took hold of the butchering knives and stored them out of reach insisting they would be a bit much for the 'prank'.
The spectre in the garden shovelled up the grass.
Amy glanced anxiously out the windows, attempting to spot the ghoul. Sam roughly moved her out of his way. He dashed round the living-room, looking for potential weapons. Amy tottered over to Charley, who continued to search the kitchen draws. She asked, "Are you sure Sam isn't bad news?"
Charley halted his activities, offering her an incredulous expression. Amy's eyes widened, head tilting to the side, as she nudged it round in Sam's general direction. Glancing over, Charley attempted to hide a wince. Sam ferociously kicked and tore at the wooden leg of one of the chairs. Breaking it away, he stabbed at the air.
"Err," Charley shook his head, "Yeah, he's fine."
Expelling an unbelieving scoff, Amy crossed her arms. She stressed, "If he's really just lost his parents and his fiancé to this… Jerry-guy, then shouldn't we be just a tad bit worried?"
"No," Charley dragged out with a transparent grin. At Amy's unimpressed facet, he coughed, saying, "He's a good man. Sam's just, like you said, going through some stuff and… well," They both jumped, as Sam smacked the make-shift weapon against the living-room wall. Charley nodded his head resolutely, "He'll be fine. He'll be great!"
Amy glared at Charley, lowly hissing, "He's going insane!"
As they watched Sam beat the wooden stilts supporting the staircase banister, they shivered.
"We'll see." Charley murmured unhappily. His brows coming together, as his nose twitched, Charley uncertainly whispered to himself as he watched Amy venture towards his mother, "I just hope I don't join him…"
Jane fussed over the mess, over the cost, but as Amy turned her away from the wreckage of her home she caught sight of Jerry's figure again in the garden through the window above the kitchen sink.
"What is he doing?" Jane heatedly hollered.
"Oh boy…" Sam gulped. He tiptoed back into the kitchen with five potential wooden weapons.
"What kind of prank is this Charley?" Jane shouted, "This has gone too far!" She scrambled for the keys to the back door.
Amy stole them away, insisting forlornly, "I don't think this is a prank. I think we need to get out of here." She watched alongside the others, as Jerry continued to dig. "I think this might just be real."
Gazing at the broad leer upon Jerry's face, Sam reached round Amy's waist to grab the keys. She squealed, Charley verbally protesting with disjointed words. Sam was able to unlock the door and pull the handle down before Charley shoved him away.
Although the bread knife was poised shakily at his chest, Sam dared to sardonically ask Charley, "What are we going to do when he finds a way in."
He tore the bread knife from Charley's grasp and threw it behind him. Holding Charley's shoulders firmly, Sam peered down at him more seriously, "You need to protect them Charley. I can distract him – get you some time."
Struggling, Charley broke away from Sam. His back bashed against the back door, which rattled.
"What are you afraid of Charley?" Sam yelled, "I've got nothing left, but you have everything to fight for. Why won't you just let me give you the time you need?"
Charley viciously shook his head, eyes firmly closed, "I'm scared Sam."
Amy clung to Jane, raising a hand to her mouth to stifle the weep that threatened to breach her glossy lips.
Charley opened his tearing eyes, staring at the tiles of the kitchen floor. Sam's bloody shoes tiptoed into sight.
Charley exhaled a trembling breath, "They don't get it – they don't believe it! You though, we both know. Ed's gone, so is Adam and I did nothing for them. I should have been there for them man." A salty tear dribbled down his cheek. His voice cracked, "You're here Sam, still here, but you're losing it. Everyone is either dead or insane – you've seen that Vincent guy! Is that really the best we can hope for?"
Charley gasped, eyes widening as Sam harshly pulled him from the door.
Sam held Charley securely.
He whispered with certainty, "I've got you Charley."
Nails scraping insistently at the metal fleece of the door, Elizabeth wailed. Jerry did not come to open the door. Not to laugh at her. Not to throw her down the steps again. She slashed at the handle. Metal splinters flew out at her. Hands bloodying, cheeks and arms marred, Elizabeth stopped.
She leaned her head against the door, heavily breathing.
A voice could be heard.
Elizabeth squished her right ear against the door, hoping to identify the words. The voice was one she did not know. Feet shuffling, she braced her hands on the metal too. Checking off a list, the voice neared. Jerry's voice was deeper. His steps were quieter. Anxiously nibbling her lips, Elizabeth dared to lightly knock on the metal door.
She jumped back.
Elizabeth stared before her. Her knock had been returned.
The door did not open, but a snarky laugh seeped through the frame. Glaring, she smacked a fist against the door. The laughter grew louder.
"Shut up!" Elizabeth shouted.
Hastily stepping further away from the door, Elizabeth's shoulders anxiously shook. The handle twisted downwards. The metal moaned. As the door opened, her eyes focused upon a smaller figure. Dark hair mussed and skin tinting blue, a young fanged boy sneered at her. Elizabeth cringed, as his wiry ears flicked backwards as he spoke.
"Come on, you need to get ready." He croaked nasally.
Left eyebrow arching upwards, Elizabeth pursed her lips. She queried solemnly, "You're a friend of Jerry's?"
Barking, he grinned at her, "More of a minion, but he's more up-to-date than you'd think," curtsying mockingly he lavishly spewed, "My Queen."
"What?" She stuttered, eyes wide.
Shrugging, the lad said, "Well you are his new lady-friend, aren't you? Eliza or something…"
"Elizabeth – I hate Eliza." She quickly insisted.
"Right," he droned, "Hurry up then, we've got a few things to sort before we catch up with the others."
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth beckoned, lightly jogging to catch up with him as he wandered from the doorway and towards the staircase.
Leaping onto the floor above, he gathered a hat and suit. He flung them onto Jerry's ornate bed.
Turning to her, he leered, "If you don't mind I'd like to get changed now." As he motioned to shut the bedroom door, Elizabeth forced it back. She latched onto his shoulder, desperately begging, "What is he planning?"
Smiling largely, fangs glimmering beneath the dim hallway light, he teased, "You'll see."
Amy hesitantly gripped Charley's arm, tentatively asking, "He can't actually dig his way in… can he?"
"This is insane." Jane loudly announced, "I'm calling the police."
"They're useless." Sam lowly told her, pinching the mobile phone from her quivering hands.
Charley frowned at Sam, wishing the man would treat his distraught mother more gently. Sam snorted at the protective look Charley oozed, throwing the mobile phone onto the couch.
"What are we going to do?" Amy questioned, nervously tapping her right foot against the kitchen floor tiles. She watched Jerry dig erratically into the garden grass. The hole was getting deeper. Charley would not answer. Sam silently stared, as the beast shovelled the earth.
Licking his lips, Charley glanced round the room. He caught sight of the front door. Turning back to stare at Jerry's mad form in the back garden, he grabbed Amy's arm. Pulling her and insisting his mother join them he quickly ordered, "You go out the front door. Get the car. Go." When they did not respond he firmly asked, "Understand?"
Jane did not acknowledge him. Amy nodded furiously, as he attempted to advise them, "Amy, can you get my mom out of here?"
"Okay, let's do this." Charley asserted, stepping towards the front door. Carefully he took hold of the handle. Sam stoically peered at the trio from the kitchen. Heavily breathing, Charley grasped the handle of the front door and slowly pulled it downwards, wincing as it slightly creaked. When the latch clicked, he and Amy sighed with relief.
Charley pulled the door towards him.
It did not open.
Brows drawn, he pulled more forcefully. The door was stuck. Inspecting the wood, he found the frame damaged. The wood around the hinges had been tampered. The minuscule stakes twisted and veered round the metal. The corners of the buckles of the door dug deeply into the framework.
Crying out, Charley slammed his fists against the door. Jane returned absentmindedly to the kitchen window by Sam's side. Charley quietly muttered, "I'm sorry, I am so sorry."
Amy gently grasped his shoulders, stroking them reassuringly. "Charley it's okay." She soothed. He shook his head, attempting to combat mournful tears.
"It is not okay," He declared, "You're going to die and it is all my doing. I should've left it alone!"
Amy glared, stepping away from him. She slapped his back. Charley's eyes widened. Again, she hit him. "Stop it – right now!" Amy shouted, "If he's a murderer, killer – vampire thing or whatever then he was planning on killing us anyway. You have nothing to be sorry for. Don't be sorry for trying to save us."
"Yeah," Jane breathed, "I'm proud of you Charley. My baby boy," A few tears fell from her glistening eyes, as she left the window sill and fiercely hugged her son, "You've done so well."
"If you're done with the love-fest; he's finished." Sam sombrely interrupted. He continued, leering at Jerry's smirking figure, "Seems he won't be digging his way in."
Jane grunted, "Is that wiring?"
"I don't know… piping, maybe." Amy quietly ventured.
"Whatever it is, it has made him a very happy man." Sam stated, turning to gaze at Charley unsurely.
"I don't know." Charley admitted, returning the look.
He did not know what to do. He did not know what to expect.
For a moment Jerry stood analysing the material within his grasp. Then he began to tease them. He worked the provisions he had dug up, twisted and turned them.
Charley, Jane and Sam leaned closer to the window, wondering.
Sniffing, Amy turned towards the living-room. She sniffed again. Breathing deeply, she asked, "Do you smell something?" Creeping to the couch she quietly queried, "What is that?"
As Charlie spun round to face her, the fireplace flamed.