"When a Man's Hungry, he Eats."
The mist which had descended upon Kalispell was more than just an impediment to vision. The fog dampened and distorted sound. This was especially so in the high frequencies where the human female scream tended to dwell. No one had heard the altercation in the streets. No one had noticed the sound of rushing feet. Nor the shouts from one girl to another out at the house.
No one knew that a predator was stalking the streets of Kalispell.
No one was coming to help.
In the girls' house, a boom and crack reverberated through the building. The mist did nothing to shroud the noise from those within these walls. This hell was their very own, personally outfitted and delivered by the careless comment of Festus Farley some days previous.
The boom and crack came from the door, where a heavy boot slammed into the portal's meager guardian of deteriorating wooden planks which hung on an insubstantial trio of hinges and an inadequate bolt. Already, the wood was splitting and splintering from the impact.
One more kick.
Maybe two.
Then the sardine can would be open, and Moe could slurp up the tasty fishes inside.
"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows" - Helen Keller
"I'm here," her voice betrayed her fear. "It's dark, I can't...there's a man, he attacked me!" Now, her jaw and chin were starting to hurt, her head was aching, and she had to wonder if the darkness was just that, or something more. "I don't think he followed me, but I locked th' door."
"What? ... " Frances called, although she had heard quite clearly. "Hold on, I'll lock the front!" she shouted and quickly made her way there, less carefully than usual but just as successfully. She threw the bolt, and then had a sudden thought: what if Arabella came home and found herself locked out? Oh well, for now, she would just find out from Tully exactly what had happened, it could all just be a 'storm in a teacup' as James Vaughn might have said... she dashed back to where Tully's voice had come from.
A few seconds ago she had felt snug, warm and relaxed, ready for bed: now, walking at top speed in just her nightgown and slippers, she felt cold, exposed and scared: the goosebumps rising palpably on her arms and legs.
Once she had guidance, be it a lamp or Frances, she could get them ready, just in case the man tried to get in. "Frances?" Now she knew what it was like to be blind.
The blind girl reached the sighted girl not with a crash, as might have been expected, but definitely with a mutual scrabbling of hands, Frances feeling at Tully as if trying to check she was undamaged. Then a quick hug. They separated but Frances kept hold of Tully's hands in the dark.
"Let's just keep quiet until he's gone away, all right?" Frances whispered, trying to sound calm. Well, that plan lasted all of two seconds.
BANG!!!
The boom and crack came from the door, where a heavy boot slammed into the portal's meager guardian of deteriorating wooden planks which hung on an insubstantial trio of hinges and an inadequate bolt. Already, the wood was splitting and splintering from the impact.
If Tully screamed, Frances did not know it: she was too deafened by her own screech of terror!
One more kick.
BANG!!!
Frances had never been so terrified, and a stream of warm liquid ran down between her shaking legs as she jumped sky high. She couldn't control her body's reaction to the shocking noise which was like the boom of the cannon she had once heard at a parade in New York. But she could control her mind, her thoughts: that is what she did all the time, that was how she survived in this world designed to be navigated around by some mysterious extra sense that most other people posessed and which she lacked.
She found Tully again with her hands and dragged her forwards. She knew whereabouts she was, and she knew which way she was facing in the jigsaw puzzle of hard and soft surfaces, of empty spaces and of movable objects which made up her home. "Quick, upstairs!" she hissed as she pulled the strong but slight Tully behind her.
"Stairs, thirteen!!" she whispered as she reached them. Again, she didn't know at one point whether Tully had stumbled and whether she was just pulling her along by main force. She was too busy thinking about her plan: she would get the key from the inside of the first door, lock it from the outside and then they would hide in the second bedroom - her bedroom - with the door unlocked: and hope the intruder would assume they were hiding in the first room.
If not, and they had to fight for their lives, or their honour, or both, at least in her room she knew where everything was: she knew that minutely. There was a third and final crashing and splintering downstairs as the door finally gave way. This time there wasn't even a bang, just a sickening, defeated crumpling noise and the 'plonk' of a disembodied plank hitting the floor inside the house.
Frances now almost threw Tully in front of her.
"Get into my room and hide under the bed!" she ordered in urgent hushed tones "I'll be right there!"
She fumbled for the key of the first bedroom, panicking, reaching her hand around the door and realising too late that it would have been much quicker and more efficient to walk into the room, pull out the key and walk out again than try and cut corners like this. She finally got hold of it and started to try and get the small fiddly key into the keyhole on the outside: normally a quick maneuver but now a seemingly impossible Chinese puzzle: she bashed the key noisily against the lock around the hole three or four times; her heart was hammering in her chest and she could feel the cloying cold of her sodden nightdress around her legs where she had wet herself so copiously.
And where... where was the man??
@[Cuban Writer]
Tully was only barely starting to let herself think that the man had given up and moved on -- not that she would let her guard down until daylight -- when the pounding started on the door. Her heart leapt with each blow and nausea started to rise in her stomach.
"Quick, upstairs!"
Frances grabbed her by the wrist, and Tully willingly went with her, stumbling over her own feet a few times, but only that, Frances was steering them clear of obstructions.
"Stairs, thirteen!!"
Tully nodded, although it wouldn't be seen, and started counting steps...
One, two, three, four...
There was more pounding, the splintering of wood...
Five, six,seven, eight, nine...
The blows to the door were more determined, now that the wood was giving way. Sanctuary was no longer safe...
Ten, eleven...
Tully missed the last couple of steps as Frances shoved her toward the bedroom, and she was able to make it there now that she was more familiar with the layout. But then the suggestion...
"Get into my room and hide under the bed!" she ordered in urgent hushed tones "I'll be right there!"
"No!" Tully hissed back, but Frances had already gone to lock the other bedroom. That was all right, good thinking that might buy them some time. But Tully wasn't going to be trapped under the confines of a bed. Taking a deep breath, she waited by the door for Frances to return, pulling out her small boot knife. It wasn't much, but applied to the right area, it could be lethal.
"Frances!" Where was she? Going back into the hall, she was able to find the other girl by the subtle noises she was making, and grabbed onto her sleeve. "Come on!" She pulled Frances into the second bedroom, then closed the door. "We gotta fight," she hissed, "is there anything ya can use ta hit? Th' pitcher, chamber pot? Ya got a parasol or nothin'?"
He'd find them, she was certain, so their only chance was to take the offensive, attack the man as soon as he opened the door. They were, after all, just girls, and that was their advantage...he'd underestimate them. But once they laid in, they'd have to keep going until...
"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows" - Helen Keller
She pulled Frances into the second bedroom, then closed the door. "We gotta fight," she hissed, "is there anything ya can use ta hit? Th' pitcher, chamber pot? Ya got a parasol or nothin'?"
"Oh gosh, not in here. Well, there's a chamber pot but I... I think there's something in it. I was just about to empty it when you came in!" she didn't like this idea of fighting, but Tully was right, they had no choice. "Maybe I could throw it in his face if her comes in here. But I'd probably miss, I mean.... you must realise something Tully, just because I'm at ease moving around a familiar place in the dark, it doesn't mean I can see in the dark!" she reminded her.
There was a creak on the stair below! It was all Frances could to to stop from screaming out loud. She hugged Tully close instead, but that wasn't getting the dishes washed! "Ooooh, how about knitting needles?!!" Frances asked suddenly.
@[Cuban Writer] Bongo
"When a Man's Hungry, he Eats."
A heavy boot stepped onto the floor just inside the doorway.
Splinters and debris crunched under the weight of a large and malevolent man.
It was dark in here. So dark that almost no details could be made out. Moonlight and rare distant lamplight were diffused by the fog, rendering them a mere suggestion of light more than actual useful light itself.
No matter. Moe could hunt in the dark. It didn't scare him, none. No... darkness was the blight of those that hid in it. Those that demanded its protection were also the weakest, the most prone to imagine dangers in the dark. Dangers which, in this case, were very real.
He moved slowly, methodically. If someone bolted, it would draw his attention. If they didn't bolt, then he'd find them eventually. Hungry hands, groping in the dark.
Eventually, there was a noise. Distinct. Certain. Upstairs.
Well then... no way for them to run. No place for them to go, unless they leaped down from high windows. Then their little ankles would break, and he'd have them at his leisure.
He wondered how many there would be. He'd seen two here, sometimes. Other times, three. Whether they all dwelt here or merely associated as friends, he didn't know. He didn't care. All that mattered is that there was more flesh on hand to squeeze. To break. To devour.
He found the stairs, and began his climb.
Heavy footfalls, on creaking wood.
"You found me," Tully whispered to Frances when she expressed doubts about knowing where the man was, "and besides, he'll be right at the door. He's big, ya can't miss."
Tully had been in bad situations before, never anything like this, but there was one thing of which she was certain...someone was going to die, and she didn't want it to be her or Frances, and there was only one way to accomplish that.
"Knitting needles'er perfect! Just aim fer where ya think his face is gonna be." Reaching out, the grasped the other girl's hand. "An' Frances...we can't stop until...we can't." Once they started, they had to be convicted, and go all-in, until there was nowhere left to go.
And the time would be soon...the thump of boots on the steps was getting closer, the man was playing games...
"We're gonna do this...we can do this."
"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows" - Helen Keller
"You found me," Tully whispered to Frances when she expressed doubts about knowing where the man was, "and besides, he'll be right at the door. He's big, ya can't miss."
Tully couldn't see Frances shake her head doubtfully in the dark. She was scared and unsure, but Tully was right, hiding under the bed was no use. She decided to go with the mad plan and trust in Jesus to protect her... them. The fact that the man was a 'big target' was more worrying than comforting, though.
"All right, hold on, I need something that'll make a noise..." She ran to her dresser and got a metal tray that held a few knickknacks: unfortunately, clearing it of said knickknacks seemed to make the biggest, noisiest din in the world in the eerie silence! She winced. Drat! Oh well, it was needed. Frances had found Tully because she had made a noise for her to hone in on, she needed this terrifying intruder to make a good, clear, loud noise for her to focus her attack. She grabbed her knitting and pulled it of the two needles, while she was there and found Tully again, pushing one of the needles into her grip.
"Knitting needles'er perfect! Just aim fer where ya think his face is gonna be." Reaching out, the grasped the other girl's hand. "An' Frances...we can't stop until...we can't." Once they started, they had to be convicted, and go all-in, until there was nowhere left to go.
"All right, I understand..." she said, but without knowing if she could really kill someone. "I'm going to put this noisy metal tray in the doorway, when we hear him step on it - we attack." she whispered.
"We're gonna do this...we can do this."
Frances gave Tully what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the hand, but hers was shaking so much that it probably had the opposite effect, and then kicked off her slippers, which were making a, to her, deafening slapping noise on the wooden floor every-time she moved, and then moved forward on bare feet to put the tray on the floor in the open doorway.
She was crouching down doing this when she heard a creak on the floorboards just outside the room and before she could stop herself let out a plaintive and very audible little yelp of shock.
"Oh no!!"
@[Cuban Writer] Bongo
"When a Man's Hungry, he Eats."
At the top of the stairs, almost nothing was discernible. The faintest hints of things were revealed by the faintest hints of light sources, and only Moe's adjustment to the gloom of night made any of it detectable at all.
Even so, he had to reach out to touch the wall of the hall, letting his fingers slide across the grain of wood panels, the frame of a wooden door. His hand moved to find the knob and try it. The first option of a series of doors, behind which one or more would have his prize.
But before his hungry hand could touch the brass knob, there was a noise.
A short, high, alarmed sound. Like an oversized mouse squeaking in the dark. There. Further on towards the end of the hall.
Moe's invisible, fat lips curled into a smile. A broad smile that slid back to reveal yellowed teeth.
Time to eat.
He stalked up the hall, towards the doorway, the portal beyond which dessert lay. His boot landed on something different. Something metallic. It made a scraping sound.
His fat hands balled into fists.
Knock Knock. Who's There?
Movement, in the dark. A frightened mouse? A glint of steel?
Something soft for his hands to feel?
He swung for the movement. There was no clever reveal in this knock-knock joke.
Only a punchline.
"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows" - Helen Keller
The fist flying through the dark didn't connect fully with Frances, if it had it would have probably killed the slight girl there and then, but the glancing blow sent the knitting needle spinning off to bounce against the wall of her bedroom with a cling! and a clatter, and span her around like a spinning top. She couldn't even feel where she'd been hit she was so numbed with shock.
What she could feel were the enormous, purposefully rough hands grabbing her and lifting her off the ground, as her bare feet kicked impotently in the air, hugging her close to an equally massive body, pressing her back into him, his arms around her stomach and chest, crushing her painfully, grabbing her obscenely. She let out a scream without even thinking: a scream into the dark. She wasn't thinking about Tully or plans or attacks, she was in full, struggling, howling panic mode.
While Frances' plan with a noise-maker sounded good, the execution wasn't exactly great, and Tully cringed as the tray clattered, giving away their location. But then, it might add to their foe's confidence, and boost his arrogance, and that was about all that the girls had going for them.
But when Frances cried out, Tully put a hand over her mouth and shushed her. "SHHH!"
Although the clatter of the tray scooting through the doorway, announcing the arrival of evil, unnerved her, she held her ground, taking the knitting needle that Frances passed her in her free hand, then holding her breath. While she knew he was coming, the exact circumstances were shrouded by darkness and fear, but that wasn't going to stop her. Lunging forward, she started to slash with the knitting needle at where she calculated his chest would be, but as she swung, all at once she heard Frances cry out again, caught a flash of white where darkness should be, and managed to check her blow, striking far to the right of her intended target.
"LEAVE US BE!" she shrieked, dropping down and using her small knife to slash at the man's knees, knowing it wouldn't be lethal, but hopefully it would be distracting.