Chapter 5: Unending Tragedy

Too paralyzed by fear to move, Alyssa shut her eyes and waited for the death blow to fall.

At least, that was what she pictured in her mind a split second before something else happened, something she was never quite able to explain.

As the being towering over her raised his bulky weapon above his head, her body jerked into motion, responding to a command she didn't remember giving. Her right hand flew to her hip and yanked the bottle from her belt, though she had completely forgotten about it all this time, and hadn't even thought to check if it had survived her tumble under the bus and down the stairs.

The glass felt cold and hard, and her hands felt stronger than she knew them to be as she pulled the top from the bottle. Her body still acting on its own, Alyssa swept her arm through the air, making a stream of water flow out of the bottle. The swift motion felt natural and right, as if she had preformed it dozens of times before.

The tiny droplets of water sparkled in the lamp light as they sailed, free as a breeze, through the air. They looked more than a little harmless next to the man-sized hammer, but their affect on the hulking figure was shocking.

The inhuman-looking man recoiled with a harsh bellow of pain, like he had just been struck by acid. The beads of water turned to coils of steam as they burned into his skin.

Though she was amazed by what she saw, Alyssa didn't stick around to watch what might happen next. Still clutching the sacred bottle, she whirled on the top step and leaped into the air, skipping over the remaining stairs altogether. It wasn't until she had already made the jump did she remember the body of the young girl collapsed at the bottom, but it was too late to change her mind.

Her feet hit the wooden floor sharply, making her buckle at the knee and stumble for a second. The body had vanished; the blood beneath her shoes was dry. Alyssa couldn't tell if the girl had somehow gotten up and ran for safety, and she wasn't about to stop and look.

Her pulse pounding wilder than it ever had in her life, Alyssa sprung over an overturned dressing dummy and vaulted over the nearby desk like a gymnast. She nearly tripped in her haste as she reached out for the door near the corner; she seized the knob and pushed, but the door refused to give, causing her to crash into it as her escape was suddenly halted.

Alyssa's hands shook as she fumbled around for a latch, nearly causing her to drop the bottle she was still clutching desperately. Behind her came a thunderous thumping as the hammer-killer descended the stairs.

There was a loud hiss of air, followed by the raspy voice of the monstrous being. "Come back, Alyssa."

The sound of her own name shook her to the core; how could that horrible thing possibly know who she was?

Her trembling fingers found the latch, and she tugged it to the unlocked position and forced the door open. She burst back into the main shop, nearly crashing into the desk next to the Christmas tree. She pushed away from the desk and continued to run as fast as she could across the glass-covered floor. Her vision narrowed on the curtained-off area in the corner; she dove for it and whipped the curtain shut.

Now hidden from sight, Alyssa huddled in the corner and tried to hold her quivering breath, her heart hammering madly in her ears. Much like when she had used the bottle a moment ago, she had run for the hiding place without thinking, like her body had acted on its own. But now that she was there, she wasn't sure if she had done the right thing.

The gauzy curtain was hardly opaque. In the soft light of the shop, she could easily make out the shapes of the broken display case and the sloppy desk. It probably wasn't assuming too much to think that this visibility went both ways.

She hadn't time to venture out and find something better; the hulking hammer-wielder burst through the doorway with enough force to tear half the wall down. Startlingly nimble for his size, he leaped up onto the desk and crouched low, again making her think of an animal on the prowl.

Her view of the shop was filtered through the purplish haze of the curtain, but she could clearly see that he was sweeping his upper body this way and that, like a beast sniffing out his prey. In fact, the snuffling noises he was making sounded an awful lot like he was trying to sniff her out. The feeling that she was being pursued by some inhuman monster hit her anew, but another thought crept into her frightened mind; maybe he really was trying to sniff her out, because his eyes weren't as good as his nose.

The cowl that adorned his head, currently flapping against his shoulders as he jerked about, couldn't help his vision very much. A flicker of hope rose up inside her; maybe he wouldn't find her after all.

"Alyssa!"

The sudden shout made her jerk and nearly cry out in fear. She covered her mouth with both hands and forced herself to hold still.

The giant being hopped off the desk, making the floor shudder as he landed. "Come out, Alyssa," he demanded, his gruff voice impatient. "I promise I won't hurt you," he added, his tone and smoothing out a fraction. It sounded like he was trying to be coaxing, but it merely strengthened her resolved to keep as far away from him as possible.

"Well, I won't hurt you more than I have to," he went on, correcting himself. He reached out and knocked over the small Christmas tree with his hammer, sending glass ornaments scattering across the floor. "Just enough to get you to come along without a lot of fuss."

The broken glass turned to powder beneath his feet as he stomped to the front counter. The sudden closeness made Alyssa's heart race even faster; she watched with wide, unblinking eyes as he checked the back of the store.

"But don't think that means I don't long to kill you," he called out. He turned and kicked at an overturned chair, causing the leg to crack off and skitter to join the rest of the mess on the floor. "I'd like nothing more than to pound your skull until there's nothing left but a puddle of fluid beneath my feet. But," he added, disappointment creeping into his voice, "I've been ordered not to kill you. I can use any means I want to capture you, though...I'm thinking I should break both your legs. Maybe your arms, too."

Alyssa's mind was reeling. What did this thing want from her? And exactly who had ordered him to capture her?

She knew she shouldn't, but she was already thinking that she'd rather die than let him take her anywhere.

Her eyes drifted away from the ghoulish figure still poking around the counter and returned to the open door ahead and to her right. His back was turned, maybe if she slipped out and ran...

It was risky, but the thought of waiting until he was drawing back the curtain was becoming unbearable. If she waited until that face was peeking in at her, hidden from view behind that leather mask like some maniacal executioner...

It would be too late for her by then, Alyssa knew that for certain. Her body was already starting to tense, preparing to bolt. In her mind she pictured the back stairs, which led to the upstairs hallway, which then led back to the main shop. If she moved quickly enough, she just might make it back onto the street, where she might be able to find a better hiding place, or better yet—a way to escape completely.

It was still risky, and Alyssa felt numb with fear as she tried to map out her plan in her head. But then the killer suddenly turned away from her, heading up the stairs next to the front door. The simple wooden steps creaked and groaned beneath the great weight.

"Run all you like, I'll find you eventually," the harsh voice yelled out.

Alyssa watched through the curtain as the horrid figure mounted the stairs and disappeared from sight. She waited until the creaking overhead stopped before she dared peek out.

The way to the front door was open; if she moved quietly enough, she could escape without him noticing. But she knew that it was even more likely that he would notice, and the image of him leaping onto the desk was still fresh in her mind. She could just picture him spotting her as she crossed the room, and making a mad leap over the upper railing...

Alyssa shuddered and tried not to think about it anymore. Instead she crawled out of her hiding place, stood slowly and crept to the door that led to the back room. Now that she was away from the freakish killer, she felt herself beginning to calm again, enough for her mind to start going over what she had just seen.

The murder she witnessed looked exactly like the one she just read in the paper, and even though she had never seen her before, Alyssa was positive that the victim had been May Norton.

Her eyes briefly scanned the room as she entered, but there was no sign of the body that had tumbled down the stairs. It made no sense—not that anything did anymore—but why had she witnessed May's murder after it already happened? Alyssa had accepted that she had somehow traveled back in time somewhere along the way, but that still didn't explain why she had found a newspaper describing May's death moments before she saw it with her own eyes.

She puzzled over it for the next few minutes as she looked quietly around the room, searching for anything that might give her some kind of clue about what had happened here.

The answer came to her out the blue as she suddenly found herself remembering her mother's letter, the one she found next to the sacred bottle. She repeated the part about restless spirits to herself and knew what it was she had seen.

May's body had disappeared because it wasn't really there. May Norton was already dead, and her spirit was now trapped in the land of the living. And the maniac who had attacked her was obviously one of the unholy enemies her mother had mentioned; she had figured out as much after she threw the holy water on him.

Alyssa felt oddly invigorated. She knew what she needed to do now; she needed to ease young May's suffering. She just had no idea how she was going to do that, so she continued to search the room for any other bit of information she could get her hands on.

As she was poking through the stack of newspapers again, she suddenly remembered the key she had taken from William's room. She quickly returned the bottle she still carried to her belt, fished they key out of her pocket and cupped it in her hand as she studied it closer. She hadn't noticed before, but the small key had a tiny red tag attached to it.

Alyssa lifted her head and sought for the red filing cabinet with her eyes. She found it, still undisturbed despite the recent chase, and hurried over to try the key. It fit perfectly, and she quickly unlocked the top drawer and pulled it open.

Lying in the metal drawer was a bright brass key whose top was twisted into a shape that reminded her of a flower, or a maybe crown. There was even a small pink ribbon tied to it.

Alyssa couldn't help thinking that locking up a key was a funny thing to do. It also made her think that someone didn't want the key to be put to use. Alyssa was positive she already knew what it opened--May's bedroom door. Though she hadn't forgotten that the door had practically been ripped from its hinges as May and her killer came bursting through it.

She pocketed the key just the same and did one final check of the room. She noticed for the first time that there was another door in the far corner, almost hidden in the shadows. Alyssa went closer and was shocked to find a layer of barbed wire cris-crossing over the front of the door and stapled to the frame. Obviously, someone didn't want what was on the other side of that door to be discovered, either.

Whatever it was, she wasn't getting to it now, but Alyssa was positive that getting past that door would lead her closer to helping May. She didn't know how she knew that; she just did.

Still moving as quietly as she could, Alyssa left the impassable door for now and returned to the stairs that led to the hallway outside May's bedroom. To her surprise, the door was closed again, and when she tested the handle she discovered it was locked tight.

Puzzled but not about to waste time with unanswerable questions, Alyssa quickly pulled out the brass key, unlocked the door and stepped inside. Though she doubted it would do much against a being as massive as the one pursuing her was, she closed the door and locked it again before facing the room itself.

The small bedroom was cozy, inviting and pretty, with lace curtains, papered walls and a rug to color the hardwood floor. At the same time, there was stark evidence present that something atrocious had happened here.

In the right-hand corner was a desk, half-smashed and leaning on splintered legs, though somehow the chair had escaped unscathed. In the left-hand corner was a small bed; the pillow was lying on the floor next to it, and the pretty quilt had been dragged partway across the floor. Pictures hung crookedly on the walls, and toys, clothes, and other things were scattered on the rug.

And beneath Alyssa's feet was a large bloodstain, just inches from the doorway. Realizing she was standing on the very place May Norton had been killed, she quickly stepped away and nearby bumped into a small shelf unit the was next to the door.

The articles sitting on the shelf also looked disturbed, with most of the books lying crookedly on their sides, or having fallen off to the floor altogether. One book still lying on the shelf particularly caught Alyssa's eye; a small book with the words 'my diary' printed across the cover.

It was a simple book with a sky-blue binding, and no lock to prevent Alyssa from reaching out and flipping it open to a random page.

The date written at the top was from earlier in the year, before William was sent to the Front. May complained about having to mend her father's clothes even though he himself was a tailor, but Alyssa continued to glance through the following entries, she could clearly see that the young girl loved her father dearly. There was no mention of May's mother, so Alyssa assumed that William was a widower.

A later entry caught her attention, and she stopped flipping and read closer.

'I finally decided on the piece I'm going to play at Victoria Hall. That watch Mum gave Daddy before they were married plays a special tune, and I know he thinks about her when he listens to it. I'm happy I've finally picked something, but I'm sad, too.

'Daddy told me today that he has been called to fight in France. I'll be alone until he gets back, but it'll be all right. I'm going to practice every single day, because if I win first prize, my performance will be played on the radio. My daddy will hear it, even though we'll be so far apart. He'll hear the song my mum gave him, and it'll be like the three of us are together again.'

Alyssa closed the diary and stepped away as she blinked back tears. She could picture what must have happened on Christmas Eve pretty clearly now; May had practiced her piece hard all year, only to falter when her moment finally came. She had probably come straight home, locked herself in her room and cried herself to sleep.

And then, earlier the next morning before the sun had started to rise, her killer had come for her. Dragged her from her bed, chased her around the room, and struck without mercy.

Only her suffering hadn't ended there. Her spirit was trapped now, cursed to relive her own death over and over again. Her suffering would continue forever, unless...

Wiping her eyes, Alyssa took another look around the room. There had to be something she could do, some way she could bring peace to her spirit and free her from her awful fate. Her gaze eventually found a crisp white paper lying on top of May's dresser.

It was May's official invitation to Victoria Hall in Kensington. As she was studying the calligraphy-like handwriting, it finally struck her who was playing endlessly in the night.

It was May, hopelessly repeating her failed performance. Alyssa wasn't sure just what she could do, but she knew now that her ultimate goal waited inside the concert hall. Her heart filling with determination and a flicker of hope, Alyssa set the invitation down and turned away from the dresser.

Something began thundering against the locked door with the force of a truck, making the room shake and the windows rattle.

"I know you're in there, Alyssa," the hammer-killer's voice rasped loudly. "Come out!"