Caraliza (39 page)

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Authors: Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick

BOOK: Caraliza
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Evan thought perhaps fresh soil and a stone would please any spirit, who blew through the place, but Shelly introduced the news producer to something that could haunt him the remainder of his life; it was still there. Shelly thought it funny. The very, horribly creepy Shelly thought it funny.
She lay in his arms crying softly at all the hurt she held, and he wished their engagement, still lifting his heart, could have lifted hers. But there was a weight about her presence in is arms. A great heavy, oppressive weight, and Evan alone could not ease it.

 

With her staff arriving before noon the next day, Shelly would be too busy to bother Evan with anything. He would not bother her either, and instead planned to take her display of keys across the street to the vile stair. Then he would light the candle in the closet, and see if rest were desired at all above the other torments the brute upstairs spent its energy to make. Shelly drifted to sleep and Evan felt his body drifting beneath hers, growing delicately numb, and warm and pleasantly aroused under her soft hand.

 

He suddenly needed to find the phone.
Barely awake, Evan rolled, smashing about on the nightstand to pick the damned thing up before it woke Shelly. Whoever was stupid enough to call them in the middle of the night, they needed some outstanding reason to do it. He was clumsy and light headed and angry.
“
Mr. Bryant. You need to get to the building. Ms. Reisman has just walked over and gone in.”
“
You’re stupid, she’s here with me,” Evan mumbled.
“
Sir, this is Ms. Reisman. You are still asleep. Please wake up and come down here. She is not acting right and locked the door without speaking to either of us when we approached.”
Evan rolled to see her still snuggled where they had been, and she wasn’t. He hung up the phone by throwing it at the wall. She still suffered bad dreams on occasion, and he watched her very closely to make sure there were no more late night journeys to her lover in the closet. She did not attempt it. Evan thought it signaled her return to happier, more normal behavior. And tonight she was gone without him feeling her body move away from his. He was furious with himself for letting it happen.

 

“
She’s been here what, forty-five minutes?”
“
Yes, Sir. She didn’t drive up, she walked up the block”
“
I saw her car as I pulled around. Did she say anything?”
“
No, Sir. She walked right between us and just glared. That’s what bugged us. She’s too sweet a lady to treat us like that, never has before. You guys have a fight?” the guard said, pointing at the boarded up window.
“
No, believe it or not, we got engaged tonight,” Evan said, looking at all the glass still at their feet on the walk.
“
Then I would say you got a problem. That was no happy fiancé who went in there. Ain’t that place haunted as hell?”
“
Yeah,” Evan replied, “Even more after she walks in.” No one laughed, because he was not trying to be funny.
“
You want us to come in with you, Mr. Bryant?”
“
No, and my name is Evan. Don’t call me Mr. Bryant. It’s always creeped me out being called that.” He went to the door and realized the extent of his dilemma. They suddenly noticed it too. Evan might share very intimate moments with Shelly, but he did not share her key. He always used Sareta’s. Now he stood on the sidewalk needing to get in, and he was not going to be able to.
“
Let’s go check the back, it might be easier to force without breaking,” the guard said and hurried ahead of Evan into the alley with his flashlight blazing.

 

Shelly surely knew they were out there, and on their way to the back. He hoped she would just open the door, but it did not work that way in the movies, the sinking feeling in his stomach told him, this would not be easy at all. He was only half-right, the back door was standing wide open, but there were no lights on in the studio. If she knew they were trying to get in, she did not care. They scanned the garden with their flashlights and the first thing Evan thought was almost funny; the trees looked so out of place, as to have been cartoonish. Shelly was not in the garden or in the basement stair. The basement door was locked outside.
“
Perhaps you should go in with me,” Evan told the guards.
“
Don’t that place have lights you can turn on?”
“
What, are you fucking scared now?” Evan turned and hissed.
“
And that’s different from how you’re feeling? We aren’t police, but we can call them if you like.”
“
No, I’m sorry. It’s my problem. I’ll let you know if I need you. But we aren’t staying when I find her. You guys are here for the night anyway.”

 

Evan was up the steps, and reaching in for a switch inside the doorway when the guards turned the corner, and disappeared into the alley. The lights showed him a completely empty room. He was going to have to look for her. He could hear the guards as they chatted their way back to the car, but he heard nothing else. Pure adrenaline made him strong enough to look to the ceiling and listen for sounds he hoped he would not hear. There was no sound but his breathing.
He was not surprised he was panting. When someone has felt a menace squeezing off their heartbeat, and Evan felt one in the storeroom, they remember it well. He hated being that afraid; it made his mouth dry. The doorway into the store was black; it was as if the light did not want to leave the studio. Shelly had not turned on a single light anywhere. He moved to the door and called her name. He would have to walk several steps to reach the next switch, and she did not answer. The studio put a tiny bit of light into the shop; Evan could see the tables and the displays.
“
Kom niet in de buurt van de trap.” Do not go near the stair.
“
Caraliza!”

 

It was not relief that Evan felt, at the soft whisper in his ear.
She was there, for a reason more terrible than he could have guessed. He put out his hand to touch the switch, but he felt soft hair with his fingertips. It made his palm tingle.
“
Wacht, luister!” Wait, Listen
A gentle finger touched his lips and he held his breath. There was a voice on the stair. Evan strained to hear it, but it made no sound he could recognize. It was not speech, but it was answered from the closet. Shelly was in the closet.
“
Hij roept haar.” He is calling her.
“
Can’t you help her?” Evan breathed. He was shaking. Caraliza took his hand from her hair, pulled it around to her breast, and stood in front of him. He felt her body, cold against his hand. She was watching the stair. It was coming down.
“
Zij is bij Yousep, we moeten wachten.” She is with Yousep, we must wait.
“
I need to go to her!” he shivered and took her into his arms for comfort. She warmed and brought a hand to his cheek.
“
U zult niet in leven blijven.” You will not live.

 

When Evan’s hands were burned, as if by ice, he knew why, Caraliza had gone cold in his arms. The brute was at the bottom step, something hidden behind his bulk, tightly held in his hand. The steps were groaning to be rid of him. He was huge, and as solid as Caraliza was cold. If he saw her or Evan, he did not care; he was watching the closet. When he spoke again, Evan understood the accent. The creature was Irish. The fiend was calling to Caraliza and she stood quietly in Evan’s arms, shielding him. The brute was calling her to come from the closet. Shelly was in the closet. Her answer did not come in words, but Evan recognized the sound. If Yousep were in there with her, he was not helping her fear. Shelly was moaning in terror. One single step the brute took away from the stair, and the brutal sight, and the heat Caraliza’s presence gave, jolted Evan. He was burning all over, and she held him paralyzed with her fingertips to his lips, the brute pulled Shelly by the hair down from the bottom step. She was limp and fell down the step to the floor, her clothing in shreds. The Shelly in the closet moaned in pain.
“
Als u praat, dan zal ze sterven.” If you speak, she will die.

 

Evan’s heart was beating to escape his chest, and Caraliza turned swiftly to kiss him. She told him he must not move. He must not make a sound. When Yousep called him to the closet… that is where he must go. She bit his lip to keep him from speaking and his hands grew numb from her cold, the honey taste on his lips began to burn. He must not go near the stair, and he must not touch the person on the floor. He must do nothing but go to the closet when Yousep called him. Evan could barely stand. He was riveted by the sight of Shelly on the floor at the monster’s feet.
She was lifted by her hair, and hung limp as a doll.
Caraliza turned to warm honey against Evan’s lips, and she breathed her warmth into his ear, and then faded from his embrace. The door of the closet opened and Shelly stepped out. She was battered as the Shelly lying on the boards and she did not pause, or look at Evan. She moved slowly passed the beast and he smiled as she made her way around herself on the floor and rose up the stairs. The brute dropped the body in his grasp and Shelly fell face first into the boards. Evan could not have moved if he desired to, his panic replaced Caraliza’s touch, and he was still as the darkness in the room. They had gone into the storeroom.

 

Bile was rising into Evan’s throat, Shelly lay a crumpled mess on the floor, and it was impossible to see if she were breathing. But she climbed the stair; he saw her. Shelly climbed the stair and Evan could not go up.
The door of the closet opened without a sound. The candle was lit. Evan felt a rush of blood to his legs, and he stumbled forward as his balance was lost, the bar counter prevented his fall. The closet was open; Yousep wanted him to go there. It seemed to take hours. The Shelly on the floor did not move as Evan passed nearby. He was nearly there. The screams began in the attic.
Beastly shouts and rages, shelves falling, and screams rent Evan’s heart; a woman was being battered against the shelves. As he touched the doorway and stepped up to the closet, the screams fell off to keening wails of pain. Shelly was being killed and Evan could not go up.
“
Will you kill for me Evan?” That had been her question, and he must not try. “Will you kill for me, Evan?” he could not go up to do it. A hand took his shoulder and the door was closed behind him. Evan stood in the soft candle glow with Yousep.

 

“
Make your plates.”
“
She’s dying. Can’t you hear it?” Evan whimpered. Yousep only pulled him to the bench.
“
Make your plates, I’ll tell you when to call him.”
“
I don’t understand!” Evan was unable to think, his shuddering breath was leaving him. His eyes were flashing stars.
“
Make your secret plates. I will tell you when to call him.”
Evan had two plates he kept secret. He knew what Yousep meant. They were just there, on the shelf. Within a moment, Evan was lost in the dance to develop them. He was completely alone in the closet again. He still shivered with terror, but he worked. He understood what he was doing and what it might mean. The door opened behind him. He was instantly fearful the plate in the developer would be ruined, but there was no light.
“
It is time. Call him down. Say his name when the candle goes out.”
“
The plate is not finished, the image is not there.”
“
It is time to call him. Go now.”

 

The flashing in Evan’s eyes made it difficult to move out of the closet and down the step to the floor. He was told to stay away from the stair, so he only went half way. He stood within reach of the body on the floor, but did not touch it. There were only the sounds of things moving in the attic room, there were no voices, no screams, no whimpers, no Shelly calling to Evan.
“
Hey, Shitface! Get your ass down here,” - and silence.
“
Hey! You
vile filthy shit
, come down here!” he shouted.
If such a thing as cold, bloody evil could walk as men walk, this evil walked partway down the stair, and looked at Evan, and recognized him. Evan tried to speak again, but terror closes the mind and closes the lungs when death approaches and smiles. The brute was at the bottom of the stair and it pulled a bleeding, limp woman behind it. She fell after him the way Shelly had, senseless, unfeeling. It was Caraliza. She was broken and did not fall to the bottom step as a person would fall. She fell as a cloth would fall, as a thin, ragged dress might be pulled down behind. Her eyes were open and stared without seeing. Evan was witness now to her murder seventy-five years ago. This was that night.
“
I buried you, filth!” Evan found his voice. The brute only laughed and shook the flesh in his hands. “I dug your bones from the back. We found your grave,” Evan told it.

 

The man holding Caraliza’s body, turned to look passed the studio, to the back of the building. He did not smile when he turned back, but the laughter came to his lips again. “Yur a liar.”
Evan could not contain his fear, or his water. The man stepped twice closer. He was foul as he was horrid, Evan could not breathe in his stench. He smelled of the grave.

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