Faces of Beth, page 17
When they arrived home, Gore was silent until he went to the
bathroom to shower. Andrew knew he’d change to one of the others,
probably Beth once he was under the water’s stream and felt more
relaxed. He wouldn’t come to bed as Gore, but he was still him when
he turned back to Andrew before closing the bathroom door and
said, “I was doing it to get stronger, Andrew.” His voice was still deep
and growly, but there was a softer undertone to it. Then he added,
“I’m afraid I failed. We’re not safe anymore.”
Andrew thought about those words as he lay in bed staring at the
illuminated rectangular frame of the bathroom door.
What do you mean we’re not safe anymore?
He drifted off to that thought. At some point, he heard the
bathroom door open and felt the sheets get pulled back, but he’d
been too exhausted to care who was getting into bed with him. He
was tired enough to get a whiff of shampoo and find contentment in
the thought that his wife was finished showering and Beth was by his
side.
Later that morning, as he opened his eyes and glanced around
the room, he saw through blurred, sleepy vision that she’d already
gotten up and left the room. Her spot next to him in bed was empty.
The bathroom light wasn’t on. She must’ve gone downstairs.
It was still dark.
The sun didn’t rise this time of year until around seven. Not
wanting to be fully awake yet, Andrew squinted through the darkness
and saw the red numbers on the nightstand alarm clock. It was only
half-past five. He’d barely slept at all.
Was Alex awake already?
She was always the first one up. Paloma wouldn’t be out of bed
yet. This meant the little girl was downstairs somewhere either
watching TV or trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast. No
wonder his wife was always so tired. Between the different
personalities always stepping out of their rooms, her physical body
rarely got enough rest.
Andrew’s thoughts returned to the room from the previous night
and all the wet sounds.
Wet guts pouring from open stomach wounds.
Wet blood dripping onto the tile floor.
Wet feet stepping down the hallway as Gore made his way back
to him.
Wet…
Wet…
Wet…
What is that? That wet sound?
Andrew sat up in bed. The room was nearly pitch black, but he
could see well enough to make out the furniture in the room and he
could see he was alone. He swore he could hear something wet.
Rain pelted the bedroom window and wind howled outside. It was
storming.
Yet there was a different wet sound. Something even closer.
Inside the house.
It was like the sound a dog makes when licking water out of its
bowl, only they didn’t own a dog.
Did Beth, or Alex, leave the faucet on in the bathroom?
Was the shower leaking, dripping?
It sounded closer than that, like it was inside the bedroom.
Then he heard whispering, and he froze.
They weren’t normal words but something indiscernible, like
someone was speaking in tongues but in a hushed tone. More like
yelling, harsh words but at a low volume.
Then came the wet sounds again.
Andrew crawled toward the edge of the bed, thinking he might
find one of Beth’s personalities talking in their sleep. What he heard
between the wet slurping sounds wasn’t quite comprehensible. It
didn’t sound like any language he’d ever heard.
Slurp.
Me sincia copes resnic hala.
Slurp.
Tumasta berestemos vasta.
Slurp.
Vos me sincia copes resnic hala.
As he neared the edge, it was the round, black hat that came into
view first. Then the veiny, thin skin of his cheek, like crepe paper, as
Father Dennis lay with his right cheek nearly touching Beth’s, who
was curled up in a ball, sucking her thumb.
Alex. Alex is on the floor.
She was sleeping like Alex. Completely out of it.
Father Dennis was straddling her on all fours, lying on top of her,
holding her in his embrace as his long, snake-like tongue slid out of
his mouth and licked her cheek. The wet sound Andrew had heard
accompanied the smearing of his tongue as it slathered saliva
against her. And the whispered words flowed from his mouth without
his lips moving at all.
“What the fuck?” Andrew said, frozen in place at the sight.
Father Dennis’s head turned toward him, cracking as it twisted at
an angle that should have been impossible. His head moved around
until it was almost completely backwards, staring at him in the
darkness.
The priest’s mouth opened, and a scream emitted from him that
brought with it a foul stench that reeked of vomit and fresh shit.
“Get off my wife!” Andrew yelled.
Father Dennis launched himself forward with both hands out, his
fingers curled and his nails long with jagged claws. His face no
longer looked like the old man who’d visited Andrew so many nights
in the past. He wasn’t Beth’s grandfather, just some old personality
locked in his room who came out from time to time to scold him. This
was something different.
And how is he outside her body? How is he not a part of her?
Andrew threw his own hands out to shield himself from the
creature, but Father Dennis sank his claws into his forearms, lifted
him up, bounced off the bed, and let go of him, launching him
through the air.
Once his body left the bed, all he could do was flail his arms and
thrash his legs, but he knew where he was going, and he knew there
was no stopping himself as his back crashed through the bedroom
window. Glass shattered, pain registered all over his body, and he
sailed through and down. It happened so fast, and his back and ass
slammed onto the top of Beth’s car.
Rain poured over him, slamming against his skin and washing
away the splinters of glass. Even over the sounds of the storm, he
was sure his neighbors had to hear the commotion.
Andrew wasn’t friends with the people who lived beside him or
across the street. Sure, he waved hello sometimes, but that was
about all. They weren’t aware, as far as he knew, of Beth’s condition.
He figured they might have their suspicions that all wasn’t right in
their household. If they didn’t before, they would now. People aren’t
typically thrown out a second story window first thing in the morning.
As he rolled off Beth’s car and wiped glass off himself, Andrew
ignored the neighbors who’d already pulled out their cell phones to
record him from their windows. He hated knowing he’d be all over
social media later. News reporters didn’t even have to do their
fucking jobs any more thanks to everyday Americans doing it for
them.
He was tempted to flip off the girl across the street who’d made
her way across her lawn, with her phone held high under an
umbrella, but he didn’t. He needed to get inside and make sure Beth
was okay.
His front door was locked, and his keys were inside the house,
but Paloma was already at the door when he attempted to knock.
“Mr. Andrew,” she said, opening the door for him. “What is going
on? My God. You are soaking wet. And you are hurt.”
She took his hand and held up his arm where he had minor cuts
from the glass.
“I’m fine,” he said. “The glass… it… I’m fine.”
Beth was by her side. No, it was Alex. Andrew could tell by the
way she was squatted down and hugging Paloma’s waist. She was
terrified and clinging to her the way she did when they watched scary
movies together.
Paloma touched Alex on the shoulder to calm her and then pulled
the little girl from her waist and handed her off to Andrew while
grabbing an umbrella from the basket by the door so she could look
outside at the damage done to the car.
From inside, Andrew could hear her yell at the neighbors, “Go
inside your homes. There is nothing to see here. It was only an
accident.”
It almost made him laugh.
Yes, I was getting ready for work when I accidentally tripped, fell
out the window, and landed on my wife’s car.
“I’m scared, Daddy,” Alex said.
Andrew squatted down slightly so he would be eye to eye with
her. Beth was shorter than he was but somehow, she seemed even
smaller when Alex was in control.
“I know,” he said. “Who is he? What can you tell me about him?”
She shook her head and whispered. “The nun. The priest. They
found us. I think it’s Gore’s fault. He did a bad thing. We have to run.”
16
The storm seemed to grow stronger as the morning went on. Paloma
made breakfast and Andrew changed into dry clothes. His work shift
started soon and while he didn’t want to take Beth to work with him,
in any of her forms, he couldn’t imagine leaving her at home either,
knowing that demon priest might show up again.
At least if he brought her to work with him, he could keep an eye
on her. He’d considered calling in sick. It seemed like the logical
thing to do, but they’d be no safer at home than they would be at the
hospital, and as much as he didn’t want to take Beth back to Myles-
Bend, he felt the need to speak with Mr. Grainger, The Quiet Man.
He’d said something to him the other night, right after Old Lynne bit
part of his ear off.
It hadn’t made a lot of sense at the time, but now he wondered if
the old man had been talking about Father Dennis, or the creature
pretending to be a priest. Mr. Grainger had said, “It will live with you
until you die. It’s her he wants.”
As they raced toward the hospital, with the storm raging
overhead, Andrew wasn’t sure which of Beth’s personalities was in
the passenger seat next to him. The attack at the house earlier
seemed to throw his wife into complete disarray. Her usual
systematic transformation was thrown all out of whack.
Usually, it went from Beth to Ruby to sometimes what Andrew
thought was Father Dennis to Gore to Alex to Peter and back to
Beth. With slight variations here and there. Gore was the one who
kind of came and went as he pleased at night. Sometimes he
appeared. Sometimes he didn’t.
Now, it seemed Gore was the only one who didn’t want to show
his face.
“I want to play my game,” Peter said as Andrew drove toward the
hospital.
“When we get to my work, I’ll try to find you something to do,”
Andrew promised.
“Like what, checkers?” the young man shot back.
“No, not like checkers. I’m sure there’s something else to do.”
“Uno?”
“We have some video games. Not Grand Theft Auto but we have
games. Besides, I brought your Nintendo thing.”
“That’ll do for a little while.”
“We’ll find you something to do. Don’t worry.”
“I know what you can do.” This time the voice coming out of
Beth’s body wasn’t Peter. It was the sultry voice of Ruby. “You can
fuck me. Like you used to in the janitor closet. Remember that? The
way you’d bend me over and pound me from behind?”
Andrew remembered quite well and even under the crazy amount
of stress he was feeling, the thought of it made his cock stir.
“How I’d suck your cock when nobody was around to see it,”
Ruby continued. “How I’d purposely rip a hole in my pants, right
under the crotch, so I could sit on your lap and fuck you easily and
quickly? Will you fuck me today, for old time’s sake?”
“Maybe,” Andrew said.
It was a lie. He knew there was no way they’d be able to pull that
off today. This wasn’t about sex. This was about getting some
answers. In fact, he hoped to make a phone call to her father while
they were there and get some information about when and where
she might have met a nun or a priest. As far as Andrew knew, she
wasn’t adopted, so it wasn’t like she’d come through one of those
religious orphanages. She’d mentioned attending different boarding
schools and private schools in her youth, but she hadn’t told him
anything specific about any of them.
“I don’t want to go back there, Andrew.” This time when she
spoke, it was Beth. The real Beth, and it melted Andrew’s heart
knowing it was his wife there next to him. Of course, she wouldn’t
want to go back to the mental hospital. She’d want nothing to do with
that place.
“I’d never take you back there to stay,” he promised, “but I need
you to stay with me. To be near me.”
“Will Olivia be there?” she asked.
“You know she will be. I work with her.”
“She judges me. I know she does.”
“Baby, she doesn’t judge you.”
“She always has. And you two dated. I don’t like how she looks at
me.”
“Beth—”
“Take me some place else.”
“Beth—”
“Please.”
“Where?”
Beth remained quiet for a moment. Then she clapped her hands
together excitedly and yelled, “For pancakes, Daddy! Let’s go get
pancakes!”
“No, not this time, Alex,” he said, sadness filling his heart. If only
his wife could stick around a little longer, maybe he would have
taken her someplace else. But the fact she couldn’t was reason
enough for him to go to Myles-Bend. He needed answers and she
wasn’t going to be of any help today.
A husband and wife were supposed to be a team but with Beth,
he was simply alone.
“So where are we going?” Alex asked.
“To Daddy’s work,” Andrew said.
The rain was coming down something fierce but with the
windshield wipers, he could see the tall building up ahead on the hill
even through the thick downpour. He pointed at it.
“See there?” he asked.
“There?” she asked, excitedly. “The castle?”
“Yep,” he said. “Remember the castle?”
She grew quiet and shook her head slowly back and forth. “I don’t
like this place.”
“I know, baby,” he said, “but we’re only going to be here for a little
while. We’re not coming to stay like last time. We’re visiting. I’ll get
you a candy bar out of the vending machine, okay?”
“Ohhhh candy,” she said and clapped her hands again.
Andrew called Olivia from the parking lot and told her he was running
a little late but was just around the corner and she should let the guy
he was relieving go ahead and leave. He didn’t need any more
prying eyes than necessary. Once he saw Paul, the day shift guy
who was always in a rush to get home to his boyfriend, rush out of
the hospital and drive away, Andrew knew it was safe to go inside –
or as safe as it was ever going to be.
When he walked in with Alex trailing behind him, Olivia’s jaw
dropped. She looked up at the camera and back at Andrew who
rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
She crossed the dark atrium floor quickly and grabbed hold of his
arm. “Are you out of your mind? You are so gonna get fired for this
one.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he admitted. “You have no fucking
clue what I’ve been through.”
She studied his face for a second then grabbed his left hand and
lifted it to examine his arm. “Why are you all scratched up?”
He winced as she touched a tender spot. “I got thrown through a
window.”
She laughed, scrunched up a corner of her mouth, and continued
to examine his cuts. “Seriously. You look like a bunch of tiny ninjas
threw ninja stars at you.”
He shrugged her off and touched a hand to his head where he
felt a bit of pain. He wasn’t sure if it was from a cut or a headache
coming on.
“So, what happened?” she asked again.
“Liv, I wasn’t kidding. I got thrown through a fucking window.”
“Holy shit,” she said and seemed to dwell on it as if trying to
figure out how that would’ve happened to him. He’d passed her by
the time she turned around and asked, “Gore?”
“No,” he said. “Your buddy, Father Dennis.”
“Not funny,” she replied.
“I wasn’t joking.”
Olivia looked at Alex who was focused on her handheld video
game. “So, she…” Olivia started to say but then let the words trail
off.
