CHAPTER VII
Hollow Eyes
Miller pounded on the front door of the Watkins home; he gripped his gun in his other hand.
“Open up, this is the police!” he shouted.
Kevin and Holly stood by on the porch shivering from the cold, incessant rain. A moment went by and Miller pounded on the door again - harder this time. “Open the door!”
The door cracked open and Miller stood back and waited. Through the crack, the house could be seen in complete darkness.
“Hello?” Miller called out, waiting for someone to open the door the rest of the way.
But no one did.
He flipped on his flashlight again and shone it through the two-inch wide crack in the door. In the beam of light, he could only see sheet-covered furniture.
“Ms. Watkins?” Miller called into the home. “Valerie?”
In the shadows just beyond what the flashlight beam could pick up, a figure moved closer. Miller aimed the light up and to the left and illuminated Valerie Warner. She shielded her eyes from the blinding light.
“Can you not shine that in my face, Detective?” she said irritated.
“Ms. Warner, may we come in. We have some questions,” Miller demanded.
“Sure.”
Moments later, Miller, Kevin and Holly were inside from the storm. The house was pitch black, and the four of them sat around on the old furniture by candlelight.
Valerie held a candle in her hand, which presented her face in the darkness. Three other candles were lit on the coffee table and supplied little, but enough, light for the three guests.
“Now, what were these questions, detective?” Valerie asked in an eerily calm manner.
“Is Elizabeth going to join us?” Miller asked.
“She is not,” Valerie said sternly. “Ms. Watkins is resting upstairs. She is not well these days.”
“I want to see her before we leave here tonight,” Miller added.
“Detective, what can I do for you?”
“Where are the two officers that were stationed at the end of your driveway? Officer’s York and Westman?”
“Last I knew they were still there. Why?”
“Because neither of them are right now. Did either of them come into the house?”
“No.”
Holly looked around, creeped out by the room, which was half hidden in shadows. Hilliard was in a state of menacing darkness, and this home – the Watkins home - was the only one to show signs of electricity. That upstairs bedroom stuck out in her mind.
“Why did you guys have power?” Holly cried out. “Why was my dead sister in my bed? Why are you lying to us-”?
Kevin reached up and calmed his sister. “Holly,” he said, “let the detective handle this.”
“They’re lying, Kevin!” Holly exclaimed.
“I know, I know, but just-”
“You have a lot of nerve coming onto our property - into our home - and accusing us of lying, miss!” Valerie raised her voice. “I’ve cared for Elizabeth and Seth for as long as I can remember. This city has treated them like outcasts ever since they moved in here!”
After Valerie’s outburst, the room fell quiet. The floor above them started to creak. It sounded like someone was walking across the floor.
“Now you’ve disturbed Ms. Watkins. Excuse me.” Valerie stood up and held her candle out in front of her as she left the room.
Miller waited until he heard Valerie’s footsteps going up the stairs, and then he stood up and turned on his flashlight.
“Where are you going?” Kevin asked.
“Those officers out there know not to leave their post. I’m going to go look for them. Something doesn’t seem right here.” Miller walked to the front door and quietly opened it. He slipped out and closed the door behind him.
“Something definitely is not right, Kevin,” Holly said.
“What do you mean?”
“That couldn’t have been Ms. Watkins walking up there – she’s in a wheelchair.”
Miller walked down the steps on the wet front porch and into the yard. The rain had slowed down to nothing more than a steady drizzle. Miller shone his light across the yard at the police SUV. It was still empty. He turned to his right and came face to face with the cornfield.
He aimed the light into the tall stalks of corn and watched them rustle in the light rain. He then turned around and pointed his light down the side of the house and noticed the barn in the backyard. He sloshed through the grass on his way to the barn.
The candles on the coffee table flickered, making shadows dance on the walls and ceiling. Kevin and Holly sat uncomfortably in the darkness, waiting for Miller to return with the two officers, and hoping Valerie wouldn’t come back any sooner.
“I want to leave,” Holly whispered, her bottom lip quivering.
Kevin looked at his sister. “Why?”
“I don’t like this. Not one bit. What’s happening here, Kev?”
Kevin didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t oblivious to all the happenings, but he didn’t have any answers either. At least, none that would calm Holly down or make any logical sense.
“Why was Ava in my bedroom?” Holly asked.
Kevin chose to remain quiet.
The floor above them creaked again and ended with a thud. They both jumped and looked up at the ceiling. A second thud shook the coffee table and one of the three candles went out, sending a thin stream of smoke into the air. Kevin and Holly watched the table as a third thud from above somehow took out a second candle. Holly grabbed Kevin’s arm and gripped it tight.
A cold wind blew through the room and the third and final candle fizzled out. The room sat in darkness. Holly’s breathing picked up. “Kevin?”
Kevin didn’t answer. Holly gripped his arm tighter and called his name again. “Kevin?” Still, there was no answer.
Holly then shook her brother’s arm and started to cry, “Kevin! Kevin!”
A sharp static sound buzzed above them and the chandelier on the ceiling came to life for a brief moment, showcasing a dead girls bloody body hanging from it. Holly screamed and looked at her brother during the flickering light show. Kevin was gone – replaced by another fleshy, rotting corpse.
Holly screamed as the hollow-eyed corpse faced her and opened his mouth, expelling a gushing fountain of muddy water. It splashed all over Holly and she stood up fast. The chandelier lights flickered back off and Holly stumbled backwards and tripped over the coffee table. She landed on her back and heard a groaning sound coming from the mysterious corpse.
Her breathing picked up and she started to hyperventilate. A warm sensation overtook her cheeks and flushed through her face, making her dizzy. She felt her eyes roll into the back of her head and she collapsed onto her back and passed out.
Detective Miller snuck up to the barn and aimed his light at it. One side of the door was open and the other was closed. He pointed his light inside the barn and looked around. He noticed the large black cauldron sitting near the back wall and squinted to see what was sticking out of it.
A shuffling noise from behind him caught his attention and he swung around fast, shining his light at the back of the house.
“York? Westman?” he whispered loudly. There was no answer. He heard the noise again, and realized it was coming from above. He aimed his light up to the edge of the roof where he saw a black raven sitting still, staring down at him. Miller kept his eye on the bird and noticed something next to it, sitting in the shadows. He moved his light slightly to the right and noticed a dark figure perched on the roof. It was a gray, fleshy tone in color and was hunched over.
The dark figure then moved forward and dropped down off the roof and knelt in the soggy grass with its head tucked down by its chest.
“Show yourself!” he called out, aiming his weapon.
The figure sat still and then slowly lifted its head and studied Miller. Miller stared back at the figure – dead into its dark, hollowed-out eyes. Without warning, the figure leapt towards him, in-humanly shrieking, and Miller fired his weapon.