Floor Four

2

  R.S.V.P.

  Doug and Kyle got Brandon to go along with the plan—a little peer pressure can go a long way. The plan was for each of them to say they were staying at the other’s house for the night. That way their parents wouldn’t know the difference, and they could actually stay at Doug’s older cousin’s house. Brandon was the least sure of the idea, but went along, trying to fit in. The noises they heard earlier at the old hospital were forgotten, as the excitement about the party grew.

  The sun was fading into the western sky, and darkness began to consume the town. Kyle and Doug were at his cousin’s house and waiting to hear from Brandon. They were getting excited about crashing the party and finally getting to go up to the famous fourth floor. Kyle worried that Brandon would screw up their plans.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have let Brandon know what we were going to do. He might tell on us, and we’ll all get in trouble,” said Kyle.

  “He’ll make it. He wants to check it out as much as we do.” Doug didn’t have faith in Brandon showing up either, but he wasn’t going to let Kyle know, or Kyle might back out too.

  Brandon sat at home, nervous and scared. He didn’t want to get in any trouble at home and he had a bad feeling about the party. He was really looking forward to his first year of high school in his new town. Now, he was less than a year away and didn’t want to ruin it by getting in trouble, but he didn’t want to lose the friends he had in Doug and Kyle. He still had a little time to decide before his mother would ask why he hadn’t left for his friend’s house to spend the night. He didn’t live far from the hospital, maybe a five-minute ride on his bike, just in case he wanted to meet them there later.

  Jake went back to the hospital a little after dark, picked up the chain he had brought down earlier and used it to secure the door with a padlock. There was no way he was going to let those kids fall into any danger goofing around in the hospital, especially at night. After he locked the door, he had a look around, and didn’t see anyone lingering in the area.

  Jake went home.

  Russell and the rest of the party-goers showed up around nine o’clock. Russell and Jesse had already set up a couple of pranks for later. They had a couple of friends drop them off and they each had coolers full of food and beer, flashlights, candles and whatever else they felt was needed for the party. The friends that left them there parked their vehicles just down the street at the twenty-four hour grocery store, then walked back.

  Jesse made it to the door first and saw it was chained and locked.

  “Damn!”

  Russell walked up soon after. “What’s wrong? Door locked?” Russell began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny? We can’t get in now.”

  “I figured the old man would do something like this. I expected it. But, I know another way in,” Russell said, with a smile.

  “What? Another way?” Jesse had never known of any other way to go in.

  “Yeah. Not many know about the entrance in the delivery area. You have to go down some steps to get to the door.”

  “And you never told me?” Jesse seemed offended.

  “There never was a reason to say, as long as we could always get in through here,” Russell said as he tapped on the lock with his flashlight. “Besides, my older brother told me about it, and made me swear to not tell anyone.”

  Without another word, they started walking back to the rest of their friends. Jesse wasn’t satisfied with the explanation, but it didn’t matter right then, it was time to get the party started. As they got back to the group, Russell was all smiles.

  “Looks like we have to use Plan B.”

  They grabbed their things and headed down the steps to the delivery area on the lower floor.

  Doug checked the time on his cell phone: 9:25. “He’s not coming. I don’t care what he tells you on those text messages,” Doug said, “we’re gonna have to go alone and hope he doesn’t get us in trouble.”

  “You think we should still go?” Kyle wasn’t as into the plan as he was before.

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Doug said, as he put his phone back in his pocket.

  The boys got some things together and planned to leave at ten o’clock. They didn’t expect to hear from Brandon.

  The party was going well. They had made it through the lower entry, just as Russell had told them. Their climb to the fourth floor was a little bit of a walk, but no one complained. They were there to have a good time. The music was loud, but not too loud, and they had enough candles and battery-operated lights to make the hallway of Floor Four a perfect place for their idea of a morbid party. No one could hear them way up on the fourth floor, and with the windows being boarded up, no one would be able to see their lights. Russell and Jesse overlooked the party in progress and smiled, proud they had pulled it off. There were eight kids altogether, and some were dressed in black, with small chains hanging from their necks as a tribute to the anniversary of The Mangler’s death. For most of the eight high school kids, believing that the ghost of the famous serial killer actually haunted the halls was just a myth, or they would not be there. One girl, Linda, wasn’t so sure about the stories being a myth. She had to see for herself, and was glad she got invited. Russell was waiting for two more people to show up. They were running late, and would be there around ten-thirty.

  Jake sat on his porch smoking his cigar. He glanced over at the front of the hospital and didn’t see anything unusual. Every time he smoked one, he thought of his late wife and how she detested him smoking, and the awful smell, in her opinion anyway, that a burning cigar makes. He didn’t smoke too often when she was alive. He tried to respect her wishes, and her genuine concern for his health. As he sat and thought of everything, he planned to take one last walk for the night around ten, and check on the chain and lock he had put on the hospital door.

  Doug and Kyle rode their bikes in and out of the soft glow of the street lamps down Memorial Drive on their way to the hospital. Once they made the turn west on Memorial, the dark, ominous look of the five-story hospital came into view. They had seen this view many times before, but this time it took on a completely different look and feel. Almost simultaneously they both stopped peddling and let their bikes glide towards the main road. They both knew that this time was different because, if everything worked out, they were going to see the fourth floor for the first time.

  After the boys made it to the back of the hospital, they hid their bikes and walked to the door.

  “Look! It’s locked!” Doug said. A look of despair and disappointment came over his face.

  Kyle walked around Doug and shook the chain and lock, as if it would make a difference. “There has to be another way in. They had to have found a way in,” said Doug, as he looked around the building searching for another way in.

  They walked a short distance to the side of the building and Doug grabbed Kyle, holding him still to keep him quiet. He had spotted two high school kids walking down the steps to the secret entrance. The two boys walked down the steps carrying a couple of bags, as they laughed and joked. Doug smiled, knowing they had found their way in.

  They waited awhile and then worked their way through the shadows to the stairs that led down to a place they had not been before. Kyle reached into his pocket and pulled out his flashlight.

  Doug looked back at Kyle smiling, “Even if Brandon decides to come he won’t be able to get in now, too bad for him.” He let out a soft chuckle.

  Once they made it to the bottom they peered into the darkness through the half-open door. They listened for the other two kids. The coast was clear.

  The feeling of betrayal, even for a thirteen-year-old kid, was too much to take. Doug and Kyle weren’t answering his messages, so Brandon decided to sneak out and ride his bike to try to meet them at the hospital. The bike ride to the hospital would only take a few minutes.

  “I might be able to catch them before they go in,” he said to himself, peddling faster.

  Ca
rrying his flashlight, Jake made his way through the fence and into the plaza at the back of the hospital. Lightning lit up the sky to the west; the rain was on the way, it wouldn’t be long. He carefully walked through the area leading up to the door. Pleased and satisfied to see that the lock and chain were still in place, Jake turned and began to walk towards the fence when he thought he heard music playing. He stopped walking to listen closer. The sound was coming from the side of the building.

  Jake walked around the corner and the music grew a little louder. Nothing that could be heard by anyone driving on the main road, but it was just audible enough from where he was. His emotions went from being happy that he had stopped the kids from going inside the building, to anger and fear. He knew what was at stake, and he knew that these kids had no idea of the danger they were in. He walked faster towards the source of the sound.

  Brandon made it to the hospital and parked his bike by a tree. He reached for his flashlight and realized he had forgotten it.

  Too late now, he thought.

  At a pace between walking and running, he got to the door the boys had shown him earlier, but to his shock, it was chained shut. He did the customary, grab-and-pull, but it wasn’t budging. Now he really didn’t know what to do. Just then, he caught a quick flash of light out of the corner of his eye. At first he was cautious, thinking it might be the police, but his curiosity got the best of him and he quietly walked in the direction of the light.

  The party had just started, but it was already going good. Everyone who was invited had made it in, and now it was time for Russell and Jesse to put their pranks in motion. A total of twelve kids were enjoying the music, food and drinks. They placed lights and candles in different locations to cast shadows and give off a creepy look, but also needed to leave enough lighting so everyone could see. The candles outlined the party area in the hall, just outside the room where The Mangler died. The battery-powered lights lit the center of the party circle. Russell and Jesse had to slip out one at a time, to dawn their props for the big scare. They had planned on waiting until midnight, but they really didn’t know how long the party would last, or if the police would crash it, so they decided to play their prank. Russell had placed a good length of chain and a sickle in the ICU room where Coleman had died. He planned to sneak in there and jump out at the party at just the right time. Jesse was to sneak away down the long hall and get his hidden sickle and chain, along with a mask, and walk towards the party group to get their attention, just before Russell jumped out at them from behind.

  Doug and Kyle made their way to the third floor without any problem. They could hear the music and good times just above them. They were excited, yet nervous, to finally get to see the famous floor, and also, to be around the older high school kids. That excitement had blocked out all their fear of what might be lurking on the floor above. The door that led to the third floor hall was to their left. It was half-open and Doug shined his light into the darkness.

  “We better get up to the next floor,” said Kyle.

  “We will. Don’t you want to look around a little bit? We’ve never been up this far before,” Doug said. He pushed the door open to get a better view. “Besides, the party will be going on for a while,” he said, looking back at Kyle. He walked into the pitch-black hallway of the third floor. Kyle had no choice but to follow.

  Brandon walked around the corner in the direction of the light. He was standing at the steps that led down to a lower level, but without a flashlight there was no way he was going to go down there. The only thing that kept him from leaving was that he could hear the party’s music. He knew that his friends were in there somewhere.

  Suddenly a light flashed from behind!

  “What are you doing around here this late at night?” The voice scared Brandon, and he turned quickly to see who it was.

  Jake.

  “I told you boys to stay away from here. It’s too dangerous to be in there,” Jake said.

  Brandon was shaking a little with Jake looming over him, the light shining in his eyes. He wanted to turn and run to his bike and go back home. “I’m sorry sir. I was just looking for my friends,” Brandon said, tears welled in his eyes.

  “Look son, you best go home now. I’ll find your friends and get them home too. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I had to see if you knew the way into the building.”

  “The only way I know is the way we went in before, but it’s locked,” said Brandon.

  “I know it’s locked, I’m the one who did it. Now it sounds like they found another way in.” Jake pointed his light to the steps leading down. “You go home. I’ll get them out of there before it’s too late.”

  Brandon was scared, he nodded and turned, then walked away towards his bike. Jake shined the light along the path to help him find his way back.

  Russell and Jesse eased away from the party and got in position to scare the others. The props of the sickle and chain were just where Jesse had left them. Russell went right to the place where he had left his props, but they weren’t there. He anxiously looked around the room, they were gone. He knew exactly where he had left them, leaving him puzzled as to where they could have gone. The only explanation was that someone at the party had found and moved them, but it was too late now. They had to go on without them, and he hoped that Jesse’s chain and sickle were still there. He quickly sent a text to Jesse to start the plan.

  Jesse put on the mask and the butcher’s apron, splashed with fake blood, and grabbed his sickle and chain. He was a good way down the hall, and walked out into it, moving towards the unsuspecting party-goers. No one noticed him at first. He made it halfway down the hall before a girl at the party saw something moving slowly towards them.

  The lights from the party gave off an eerie glow from Jesse’s view through the mask as he methodically walked towards the group. The girl who spotted him froze at first, then turned to the others.

  “Look! Who is that?”

  Everyone turned and looked in silence at the slow-moving figure as the sound of the chain dragging on the floor could now be heard. The sickle came into clearer view, raised high, as he approached the outer circle of the lights.

  “Oh my God!” one girl screamed. The entire group backed up slowly, and as they did, they moved directly in front of the entrance to the room where Russell was ready to scare them from behind.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Craig said as he stood out in front of the scared group. “Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded.

  “Let’s get out of here!” another girl shouted.

  Just as the screams and shrieks became louder as a group, Russell made his surprise entrance from behind them. He jumped out at them with a scream made for Hollywood, just as Jesse started running at full speed towards them with his sickle and chain. Russell’s leap at them from behind left the group no choice but to run in the darkness down the opposite end of the hall screaming. Craig took one last look, trying to see who it was, when he saw Russell.

  “Son of a bitch!” he yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Russell and Jesse began to laugh loudly, and Jesse took his mask off. Craig was furious and walked up to Jesse and pushed him in the chest, knocking him back a couple of feet.

  “What the hell?” he said again, his eyes on fire.

  “It’s just a joke man, just a joke,” Russell said, “lighten up.”

  The rest of the party saw what was happening and slowly made their way back down the dark hall. Some laughed, while others were just as upset as Craig.

  Once everyone was back, Russell had to make an apology, despite a couple of people clapping in appreciation of the joke.

  “Sorry everyone, we didn’t mean to scare you. Well, maybe we did, but we didn’t want to ruin the party, only to have fun.”

  Craig and a couple of others were still angry, but were listening.

  “He’s right,” Jesse said, as he stepped forward, “we just wanted to have some fu
n, and figured that we were all here because of The Mangler. That’s why we did it.”

  They slowly let go of their anger in response to what Jesse was saying.

  “Really, it was just in fun,” said Russell.

  Victor, a linebacker on the football team and a friend of Jesse, walked up to him, grabbed the chain from his hand, and raised it. “I’ll let you slide, this time, but if you pull some shit like that again, I’ll strangle you with this chain myself,” he said. He raised the chain to Jesse’s neck and looked him in the eye. “Just a joke, right?”

  The group was silent; the tension was at a high. Then, Victor smiled. Jesse smiled, and relief set in on him and the party-goers.

  No matter how mad some of them were, the party would still go on. Russell was relieved, and patted Victor on the shoulder as Victor placed the chain around his own neck and walked away.

  Russell looked at Jesse. “That was great, but I didn’t think they would be so mad.”

  “Where is your chain?” Jesse asked him.

  “I don’t know. I thought you grabbed them, or someone at the party found them, but they weren’t where I left them.”

  “Let’s go look in there again,” Jesse said.

  The party continued as if nothing happened. All seemed relieved that it was just a joke, and that gave them a false sense of security.

  Doug and Kyle walked the third floor hallway shining their lights in all directions. The dark corridor looked much like the rest of the hospital that they had seen. They heard screaming from up above them. They stopped walking to listen. They were hearing screams. The hairs on the back of their necks stood up, and just then they realized that what they had seen in the movies was real. That fact scared them even more. The boys turned and ran as fast as they could to the door. Just as they made it there, the door slammed in their face. Dust and debris flew into the air and floated through the beams of light emitting from their flashlights. They yelled and pounded on the metal door not knowing who, or what, slammed the door closed.

  Jake walked into the lower level of the loading dock and was shocked to find out that there was another way to get in—he thought he knew every inch of the place—and he knew that trouble was coming for those kids above. He carried his flashlight and crowbar that he brought from the house. Coleman would be waiting for him, he was sure of that. He had to get those kids out of there before Coleman had a chance to crossover to the real world and kill again. He heard the faint sound of screams coming from the party. He hurried his pace, climbing the stairs up to the first floor from the lower level. Once he got back up to the main level he went to the stairwell and made the ascent, one step at a time.

  Halfway to the second floor, he stopped to catch his breath, when he heard the sound of a door slam. He shined his light upwards, but could not see anything. He hesitated, hoping that the screaming and the door slamming was all part of the kids having their fun at the party. He was relieved, for the moment.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! The banging on the third floor door startled Jake.

  “Let us out! Let us out!” Doug and Kyle screamed from behind the door.

  Jake made it to the door. “Who’s in there? Is that you kids?” Jake asked.

  “Yes, it’s Doug and Kyle. Is that you Jake?” Doug asked, his voice shaky.

  “What the hell are you boys doing in here? I told you to stay away didn’t I?” Jake was angry. He reached for the door handle and twisted the knob, it wouldn’t turn. Jake leaned against it and pushed. The door budged a little. “Pull the door!” he yelled.

  The boys pulled as he pushed, the door creaked loudly as it opened. The light from the three flashlights intersected between them. The boys were wide-eyed and scared. Jake’s eyes were full of anger and fear.

  Brandon had fooled Jake. He walked towards his bike, but stopped once he was out of Jake’s view. He quietly followed, making sure he was able to see Jake’s light as he walked ahead. Although Brandon was scared, he knew he had to see what was up there, and prove to his friends that he wasn’t scared. He had no light, but stayed close enough behind Jake that he was able to use Jake’s light to guide him up the stairs.

  Brandon heard the commotion in the stairwell above him. He stopped, straining his eyes to see what was happening. The only thing he could see were beams of light flashing in all directions. Beyond the commotion, he could hear the sound of music and laughter coming from the party. He continued walking up, doing so as quietly as possible.

  “You boys get out of here now. Understand me?!” Jake said, not asking, but telling.

  “Yes… Yes sir.” Doug and Kyle were scared enough, after being locked in, to gladly get the hell out of there. They ran down the stairs towards the second floor. Brandon was close enough now to hear Jake’s demand. He didn’t want them to see him, so he ran a few steps down and ducked just inside the second floor hall. He wanted to prove to them that he wasn’t afraid, that he was there, but at the same time, he wanted to follow Jake. He wanted to see if he was hiding something. He wanted to see what was on the fourth floor.

  The boys ran by, never looking into the second floor hall. Brandon hid behind the door. He didn’t realize how much he was shaking until the boys had rumbled down the stairs on their way out to safety. Brandon came out and quickly made his way back up to where Jake was. Afraid, he needed to stay as close to his light as possible.

  Victor, after making his point to Russell and Jesse, walked down the hall, chain still dangling around his neck, on his way to use the restroom. Although there was no running water, the kids did use the actual restrooms when they had to go. Victor, feeling brave, walked in with his flashlight and found the toilet stalls, along with the terrible smell. He smiled—he was in the right place.

  Victor positioned the flashlight so that he could see when he took his leak. He felt as if someone was watching him. His intuition was right. The chain that dangled around his neck and over his shoulders was grabbed from behind. It startled Victor, he tried to turn.

  “Hey! What the hell? Don’t you see I’m trying to take a piss here?” he said, thinking it was a joke. The chain tightened around his neck and was pulled back violently, Victor’s upper body flew backwards, the flashlight dropping from his hand. He tried to keep his feet planted, as he was taught many times during football practice, but whoever was pulling him was strong . . . very strong. The air was being sucked from him quickly; he tried desperately to take in air, grabbing at the big chain around his neck.

  “Come on, quit playing!” he cried.

  His adversary quickly twisted him around. His eyes bulged from losing air and in fright, as he saw that the person strangling him was not one of his friends, nor anyone he knew, but he was someone he knew of . . . The Mangler.

  David Henry Coleman struck down on Victor using the sickle and drove it straight into Victor’s chest. The razor-sharp point of the blade cut through and lodged in his chest easily. Victor, eyes bulging and in shock, had no time to react. Coleman stepped away after loosening his grip on the chain and let Victor take the last few steps of his life into the hallway. Victor walked like a zombie into the hall, the only thing keeping him alive was pure adrenaline, but even that could only last for so long. Coleman smiled as he watched Victor try to save himself.

  Sarah was the first to see him. She screamed at first, and then thought it was another prank. She walked up to the wide-eyed Victor, his hands clutching the blade lodged into his bleeding chest.

  “Another joke huh? It won’t work this time. So cut it out!” she said.

  Victor’s bloody body fell forward in front of her. He landed face down forcing the sickle up through his chest and partly out his back.

  Sarah screamed, realizing it wasn’t a joke. The other kids at the party ran to her. They saw Victor's body and had trouble believing it was all real. The blood was pooling under him. The sickle stuck out of his back like a calling card and warning from The Mangler.

  Jake made his way through the fourth
floor door just in time to see the kids arriving at Victor’s dead body. Sarah, shaking and sobbing, still in utter shock, looked up and saw Jake and screamed loud. Everyone looked at her, then Jake. Jake had come in the only way they could get out. More of the girls screamed and then Jesse realized it was only Jake and the group felt a slight sense of relief.

  Russell kneeled at Victor’s side doing whatever he thought he could do to save him, or bring him back. Russell was sobbing.

  “What the hell are you kids doing!?” He walked closer to the group and saw the dead body on the floor. He paused. “Shit. You kids get out of here,” he said softly. Thoughts ran through his head about what he could have done to prevent what just happened—something he knew would happen sooner or later. He finally snapped out of it. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! NOW!!” he screamed at them. They didn’t hesitate. All, but Russell and Jesse, ran down the hall, some crying, some screaming. Their sounds of terror faded as they hit the stairs going down.

  Brandon had just avoided them as he stepped to the side of the door. He was more scared than he had ever been, but he was too close now, he had to see.

  “Come on Russ! We gotta get out of here,” Jesse pleaded. Russell looked down at his friend, trying to absorb what happened. His hands were full of blood.

  He cried.

  Jesse grabbed at his arm and helped lift him to a standing position.

  “Go. You boys need to get going now,” Jake told them. “Did you hear me? I said NOW!” he yelled.

  Jesse got Russell up and they both ran up the hall and down the stairs.

  The thunder and lightning that was in the distance earlier was now over the town and hospital. Not all of the upper floor windows were boarded up, which allowed the lightning to cast its eerie flashes of light down the hallway, as Jake stared down at the dead body, shaking his head. Anger swept over him, he had enough of The Mangler. No more visits, no more visions, no more secrets. He had to settle this now.

  The music was still blaring from the stereo as Brandon carefully peered around the doorway of the entrance to the fourth floor. He saw Jake standing over a body on the floor. Scared and afraid to speak up, Brandon knew he should have left to safety with the others.

  Jake found a blanket that was left at the party and used it to cover Victor’s body. He walked over to the stereo and turned it off, the hip hop tune that was playing silenced. He knew this would all end now. He felt responsible for the boy’s death. There was no way to keep the secret now.

  The unmistakable feeling hit him again, one he knew very well. Coleman was with him again. Jake turned to find Coleman standing not more than twenty feet from him. This was the closest that they had ever been to each other, but this time, it was not Coleman, it was The Mangler.

  This time, he was not a ghost.

  This time he was real.

  He smiled at Jake. Jake tried to hide his fear and use the power, a power which he did not understand; the power that he had used over him before, to make him disappear. “That won’t work now old man,” Coleman said. “I have been released and tasted blood again. I can smell my victims, their sweet smell of fear.” He laughed, never taking his eyes off Jake.

  Jake had never heard him speak, which proved to him that Coleman was indeed alive. Jake stayed calm, not revealing his fear. He studied the killer, who, this time, did not look like a cloud or mist. No, this time the thing that stood in front of him was now alive.

  Brandon stood in the shadows, in awe and amazement.

  Was he really seeing the ghost of The Mangler? He wanted to run down the stairs, but the shock held him there. He felt the warm fluid running down his leg. His fear was causing him to lose control of his body. Brandon was shaking so much that his vision became blurry. He was about to go into shock.

  “You don’t scare me,” Jake told him. “Dead or alive, you don’t scare me.” Jake calmly put a cigar in his mouth and lit it, trying to hide his shaking hand.

  Coleman was changing in front of his eyes.

  Maybe, just maybe, whatever power I have is working, Jake thought.

  But Coleman wasn’t disappearing into a mist like before. He was growing more human, more real. Jake realized that Coleman was now holding a sickle in one hand and a chain in the other.

  Jake knew this meeting with the killer was different. He had just killed an innocent boy and that was giving him the power to come back to this world and murder again. The power he had over Coleman, one that he did not understand, he needed now. The only thing he had done since he began coming up here was standing his ground and looking right into the eyes of the murderer, never wavering. This always worked, and kept Coleman in the spirit world.

  Since the day in ICU, when Coleman pointed at him just before he died, the two were connected. Now, it came down to this, and he had no idea how to stop it.

  Jake puffed on his cigar, fire burned and crackled at the end. The smoke swirled and drifted up in front of him as he exhaled.

  If this bastard is real now, I should be able to hurt him.

  Brandon didn’t know what to do. With his body shaking so bad he couldn’t move. He was far enough away and peeking through the crack in the door that they had no idea he was there, as long as he stayed in the dark.

  Jake reached for a small piece of pipe that was lying on a table.

  “Go ahead, take it,” Coleman told him. “It won’t do you any good. Your power over me is gone.” Coleman stepped forward raising the sickle and chain. Jake tried to grab the pipe, but it slipped through his fingers and clanked on the cement floor. Coleman quickly stepped within three feet of Jake, sickle raised, about to strike down in his trademark murdering style.

  Jake closed his eyes.

  This was the end.

  Brandon watched, mouth wide open, and began to cry.

  Behind his closed eyes, Jake waited to be struck down, but nothing happened. He opened them; the cigar fell from his mouth.

  Coleman was gone.

  Jake looked around, not knowing if he had made him disappear like before, or if he had escaped.

  He heard a noise behind him coming from the stairwell, turned quickly, bent, and picked up the piece of pipe. He walked cautiously towards the door, raising the pipe as he did. He heard Brandon crying just inside the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jake asked, as he lowered the pipe. “I told you boys to get out of here. I’m not gonna say it again!” Jake was very mad now—damn kids.

  “I’m by myself,” Brandon said.

  “Here, take this flashlight and get out of here,” Jake said, “and don’t come back, ever again.”

  Just as Brandon took the light, he glanced over Jake’s shoulder and saw The Mangler looming a few feet behind Jake. Fear returned to Brandon’s eyes. He tried to point to Jake, over his shoulder, but fear kept him from raising his arm. The flashlight in his hand felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Jake saw the look in Brandon eye’s and knew what was waiting for him.

  Brandon turned and ran down the stairs with the shaking, erratic light beam out in front.

  Jake reached out and closed the old metal door. He was now alone with Coleman. He turned to face his fate.

  Coleman, for the first time, looked more threatening to Jake, more like The Mangler. This time was different and Jake knew it. The Mangler stood with a shiny new sickle in one hand, and a brand new chain in the other. He wasn’t in a misty state as he had been before. He had transformed into the real world after killing Victor.

  Jake reached for a cigar, but the one he had earlier was gone. He smiled.

  “You know what I just figured out?” The Mangler stood silent listening to Jake. “I don’t know why, never have, but I still have power over you, because if I die, you die forever.”

  The Mangler raised the sickle again, lifted the chain and took a step towards Jake.

  “You’re not leaving here without me, old friend,” Jake said, running towards Coleman, with the pipe raised high. The Mangler?
??s eyes were fixed on his next victim . . . Jake.

  Brandon had made it down to the second floor when he heard a long groan from above. The sound of it made him stop and grab the railing. He looked up into the darkness, knowing it was Jake. He let go of the rail and ran faster than before. He was sure he was running for his life.

  Jake’s body was found hung from the old piping on Floor Four. He, like the contract worker, was hung by a chain. But, unlike the worker, Jake’s throat was slit, with the sickle lying below him. It was not the trademark killing of The Mangler—with the sickle lodged in the chest.

  After a long investigation, the case was unsolved and considered a homicide. Everyone from the party was a suspect, interviews were done, with no leads found.

  Brandon was interviewed, after he came forward about being there that night, but no one knew that he saw The Mangler. Being young and scared, he never told the whole story. He was afraid that The Mangler would come after him since he was the last one to see him, and know the truth. He knew who murdered Jake.

  3

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  One Year Later…

  “We are standing just outside the site of the soon-to-be-demolished, Saint Vincent Hospital,” the female news reporter from Channel 13 said. “Almost a year to the date since the double- murder of Jake Felder and Victor Ramirez, the old hospital has been secured and boarded up for safety concerns, and for the ongoing murder investigation. Investigators tell us, over that period of time, that all possible evidence and clues have been taken from this location.” The reporter talked over old footage that was being shown to viewers. “Despite protests from some members in the community, the sixty-two-year-old hospital will be demolished tomorrow. Rumors continue to persist that the ghost of serial killer, David Henry Coleman, known as The Mangler, still haunts the building. Even after a year has passed since the last murders, some say that the ghost of Coleman is responsible.” The reporter paused as a picture of Coleman was shown to viewers. “But after the demolition tomorrow, we may never know the truth. On location in Baytown, this is Cynthia Hanson reporting for Channel 13.”

  The demolition took place the next day. News stations, reporters, citizens and all the kids that were at the party that rainy night watched from behind the safety barricades. Brandon also watched.

  The hospital went down without a problem, in a heap of concrete, steel and rubble. Most curious onlookers left after it met its fate, but Brandon and few others watched as crews moved in to remove some of the debris. Brandon, being a kid, found many things to keep his mind off what he saw that night, but he had to see the old building go down for himself.

  A large truck with a front-end-loader was slowly plowing towards a pile of debris when a ground worker signaled for him to stop. “Stop! Stop!” The worker bent down and began sifting through a small pile of rubble. “What the hell?” he said to himself. “No way.”

  The big piece of machinery suddenly stopping, and the yelling of the worker, caught Brandon’s eye. He watched as the worker bent down and lifted a couple of pieces of metal away and then lifted a thick, shiny, silver chain.

  Brandon looked on in horror as he realized what it was. He shouted out loud, to no one in particular. “LOOK!” His eyes wide, he pointed at the worker.

  “This looks brand new, no way,” the worker said. Then he reached down and lifted the other piece he had found, a sickle. It was as new as the chain. “What the hell is going on? How did this get here?”

  Brandon looked on, almost in shock, as the worker lifted both the sickle and chain high over his head.

  “Look. I’m The Mangler!” the worker said, as he laughed out loud.

  The light from the sun reflected off the sickle's blade and shined right into Brandon’s horrified eyes. The worker turned his head and looked right at Brandon. The sun's reflection was bright, but Brandon saw, not the construction worker holding his tools of murder . . . he saw The Mangler.

  That night Brandon lay in his bed, unable to sleep. With the hospital now gone, he was avoiding the latest text messages from Doug and Kyle, not wanting to share what he saw the night of the murders—that was something he never told them—and what he thought he saw at the demolition. He was thinking, trying to understand his visions of The Mangler, when he heard a knock at his window.

  It has to be them, he thought.

  He got out of bed and walked in the dark room to the window. The lightning briefly lit the room with a flash of light, as he stood at the window. Brandon slowly lifted one of the blinds to peek outside. Another flash of lightning hit, but he could not see anyone.

  Maybe it was the wind.

  He walked away, but stopped in the middle of the room when he heard the unmistakable sound of something sharp scratching slowly on the glass. A chill came over him.

  Lighting flashed.

  The scratching was slow and deliberate. He had two choices—run out his bedroom to his parent’s room, or see who was out there.

  Despite being young, and with all that had happened, Brandon was still a curious and a brave kid. He turned and walked to the window.

  Thunder shook the room, and as the rain started, the scratching stopped. Brandon took a deep breath, grabbed the string, ready to pull the blinds up. It was time to face what was out there.

  He pulled on the string, the blinds lifted, lightning flashed again. No one was there.

  Then, suddenly…

  Jake appeared, the palms of his hands hit flat against the window. It scared Brandon, he took a step back. Jake put his face to the window as rain poured down. He had a terrible look of despair. Brandon trembled.

  “Run boy, run,” Jake pleaded. “Run!”

  Tears filled Brandon’s eyes, sorrow setting in. In a flash, a chain flew over Jake's head and around his neck. It wrapped tightly as Jake grabbed at it. Jake's body was slung backward by something more powerful than any living man. Jake’s body hit the wet mud and grass, and there stood David Henry Coleman. With his right hand he lifted the chain, lifting Jake off the ground by a foot. Jake’s body shook as he grasped for air. In The Mangler's left hand was his sickle. He stared at the scared young boy.

  Thunder and lightning struck again.

  “You can’t escape me. Anyone who sees me must die,” The Mangler said, coldly. He dropped Jake’s dead body. It landed in the mud, with a thud and splash. “I’ll be coming for you,” he told Brandon, who was now crying.

  The Mangler burned one last evil look into Brandon’s eyes just before he turned and walked towards the woods, Jake’s lifeless body being dragged by the chain behind him.

  Brandon watched, scared and crying, knowing the ghost of Jake tried to warn him one more time. He turned to run from his room and as he took his first step, he looked up and saw The Mangler’s bloody sickle lodged into his bedroom door. Trapped between the window and the door, Brandon had to make a decision. Afraid to look back to the window, he glanced at the sickle in the door before running to it and reaching for the door knob. Not looking up, he tried to turn the knob, but either in his scared and panicked state, or because of the sweat on the palm of his hand, he couldn’t get the knob to turn. He closed his eyes and tried to will the fear from his mind. He stood there a couple of more seconds, thunder shook the house again.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried the door once again. The door knob turned easily. His eyes closed; he let out a short sigh-of-relief and opened the door. The sickle swung on the door, and after a quick look into the hall; he ran to his parent’s room.

  Bursting in, the thunder rumbled outside and just as he ran into their room, lightning flashed revealing his parent’s empty bed. Panic set in again as he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

  Standing completely still, while only turning his head, Brandon looked to his left. Something loomed in the dark shadow of the room. Lightning flashed through the windows again and to his horror; he saw his parents hanging from the ceiling. Their lifeless bodies slowly swinging
from the chains wrapped around their necks.

  Darkness fell over Brandon’s eyes and he passed out, dropping to the floor.

  “I don’t remember anything,” Brandon told his parents. They woke up to find their son lying on the floor, passed out. “I must have had a bad dream or something,” he said.

  Brandon’s mother didn’t hide her concern. She sat right next to her son on his bed, holding his hand. Brandon’s father stood over them, looking at his son, silently contemplating what they should do next.

  Considering everything over the last year, from the murder at the hospital, to the recent demolition of the cursed building; his father knew Brandon had gone through a tremendous ordeal. And while they were very shocked and upset with him for being in the condemned hospital that night of the murders, they were very thankful that their son was still alive.

  “Do you remember anything from your dream?” his father asked. “Did it have to do with this thing at the hospital?”

  His mother gave his father an angry look. She felt that it was best if they put this behind them and concentrated on moving forward with their lives.

  Brandon remembered everything from the dream, if that’s what it was, and he remembered everything from a year ago at the hospital. He never told anyone about what he saw that night on the fourth floor, and he wasn’t going to start now. To the police, and everyone involved in the investigation, he was just one of the kids that were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  He was happy that his parents were still alive, which made him think that he may have dreamed the whole thing. He thought of it for a second, but knew better. He looked up at his bedroom door. The sickle was gone. Everything about the night before pointed to it being a dream, but he knew that it was real, and The Mangler was coming for him.

  “No it wasn't about the hospital. I think I just got scared by the weather,” Brandon told his dad. “I’m okay,” he said, turning to his mom.

  Her concern still showed on her face, but she smiled at him as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Get some rest dear. I’ll check on you later.”

  “You sure, you’re all right?” his father asked.

  Brandon nodded yes and smiled at his father. His father wasn’t so sure, but he let him be for the time being and left the room with his wife.

  Brandon's parents, Daniel and Alicia, were concerned, as any parents would be if their child had gone through an experience like their son had. Brandon was fine physically, but the emotional scars left behind is what worried them the most.

  Brandon got up and walked to the door. He slowly pushed it closed and looked up where the sickle was the night before. He reached up and felt for a split in the wood. He ran his fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, finding no trace of a cut or gash.

  Somewhat relieved, he walked to the window and raised the blinds. The sun was bright, and shined through the window—much different than the previous night. He looked out into the yard. He was looking for any trace of The Mangler’s footprints in the wet mud and grass, or anything that might look like a body was dragged across the yard. Everything looked normal.

  As he backed away, his eyes focused on the window pane. He stopped when he saw something on the glass. He took a couple of steps towards the window and stopped again when he saw, very clearly, Jake’s smudged handprints still on the window. His eyes grew wide and he reached to touch the glass. To his shock, the handprints were on the inside. Small pieces fell to the floor as he touched the dried mud. Brandon pulled his shaking hand back, and quickly lowered the blind, jumped back in bed, and cowered under the covers.

  It wasn’t done with him, but he couldn’t tell anyone. He felt scared and alone.

  Over the past year, most people put the idea of the serial murders and the old hospital behind them. It was old news, as they say, but for Brandon, everything he had experienced was as if it just happened. No one knew what he had seen. No one knew that The Mangler was still out there searching and hunting for more victims, with his first victim being him. No one knew that the ghost of David Henry Coleman grabbed a new energy by killing Victor and Jake. He was planning more murders. The only ones who had any idea that there was more to the story, were his new-found friends, Kyle and Doug.

  Kyle and Doug were the ones who took him to the old hospital. They showed him how to get in, and if they didn’t believe in the ghost before that night, they did now. For some time after the night of the party, they were almost relentless, especially Doug, in asking him about what he saw. He didn’t like Doug and always denied seeing anything, and after a while, the questions slowly stopped. But with the hospital's demolition, and all the media coverage of the rumors of The Mangler being responsible, Kyle and Doug found themselves gripped again by the unanswered questions.

  As the hot summer weather began to break, and the temperatures turned cooler, he found himself riding his bike a lot more in the evening. And this is where he would run into his friends, and when the questions started again. Brandon continued to hold his ground, and never told them what he saw. He knew they didn’t believe him because they believed that The Mangler's ghost was real. Not admitting anything to them began to create friction in their friendship. That didn’t really bother him, as they weren’t life-long friends. The problem for Brandon was that they knew that he had indeed experienced something. He had seen what happened to Jake. If he thought it would help, he would just tell them everything, but that wasn’t the solution. He knew he was in it alone.

  Brandon pulled up to the Quick Stop convenience store on the corner, a couple of blocks over from his street. He liked stopping at the little store and getting some candy and soda. Digging deep into his pocket, he discovered he had a couple of dollars more than he thought, so he picked up a bag of Funyuns. As he paid for his snacks, he saw Doug pull up on his old Huffy bike.

  Great, he thought.

  Doug, recognizing Brandon’s bike, waited for him outside.

  “What’s up Doug?” Brandon said, as he walked out the store.

  “Nothing, just riding around. What are you doing?” Doug asked.

  “The same, just picking up some stuff to take home.”

  “You been by the old hospital lately?” asked Doug.

  “No. Why?”

  “They’re building something over there. I don’t know what it is, but they plan somethin’.” Doug said, looking at Brandon, watching for a reaction.

  Brandon took the cap off of his Dr. Pepper and took a drink. He didn’t mind making Doug wait for a response. He didn’t like him, especially after everything that had happened.

  As the sweet taste of the soda washed down his throat, he put the plastic cap back on, twisting it tight before he spoke. “Maybe they’ll build another one,” he said.

  “Another one what? Doug quizzed. “Another hospital? Are you kidding? Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Doug had asked more questions in the last ten seconds than he parents did in an entire day. “It doesn’t bother me. Maybe it will make people forget that anything ever happened there.” Brandon shrugged, dropping the Dr. Pepper bottle into his bag.

  “You’re crazy. But you know more than you’re saying,” Doug said, looking at Brandon distrustfully. “Building something there will bring it back.” He laughed.

  Brandon shrugged again and shook his head. “I don’t know.” He did his best to hide his real feelings despite Doug looking right through him. He got on his bike.

  “You’re hiding something or just crazy if this stuff about The Mangler and the hospital doesn’t bother you.” Doug looked at the expressionless Brandon and turned his bike and rode away.

  Brandon watched him ride off knowing he was right, but there was no way he could tell anyone.

  He rode his bike to the store intending to pass by Jake’s old house after. He had only been by there once in the last year. Now with this last vision of Jake, he needed to see Jake’s house—maybe for old times, old memories, or maybe to find some sec
urity in Jake’s spirit—if that was even possible. He didn’t know for sure, but now that Doug told him about the land where the hospital stood; he wanted to ride by there too.

  No one lived in Jake’s old house. Brandon heard that Jake’s family cleared out his belongings after the reading of his will. Straddling his bike, he stared at the For Sale sign that slowly swung back and forth on its hooks in the wind. Grass was growing tall along the chain-link fence and he could see a few weeds popping up along the edge of the porch, where he first met Jake. That was his favorite spot to sit and watch people go by, and occasionally tell kids, at least the ones who knew him, scary stories.

  He didn’t know Jake for too long, and had only visited him at his house a couple of times, but he always felt a comfort being there. Now, the deserted house looked different and felt strange. A year had passed and he could see, from outside the gate, that some of the paint was chipping. The curtain-less windows stared back at him. Against his better judgment, he got off the bike and dropped the kickstand on to the sidewalk.

  The gate door wasn’t locked and made an awful creak when he pushed it open. No one was around, but it felt like the whole world was watching. Closing the gate behind him, he looked at the front door, and even with it being the middle of the day, he was still scared. He really didn’t know why he wanted to get a closer look, but he just felt like he needed to face it. His sense of security left him as soon as he got inside the gate.

  The steps groaned under his feet as he made his way to the porch. He smiled when he saw the old, now rusted, metal rocking chair that Jake always sat in. Written across the seat of the chair, in faded and barely legible writing, were the words, gRAnDpAs ChAiR. The words, written with crayons, were obviously a tribute from Jake’s grandchildren. He couldn’t help but smile again.

  Just behind the chair was a window. Brandon slowly moved in front of it, and despite the dust, could see himself in the reflection. He moved closer to clean the window and peek inside. Using his hand, he cleared a spot and pressed his face to the glass. Not knowing what to expect, his eyes looked left and right, revealing nothing more than an empty house. A house, Brandon thought to himself, once full of life—a life that was taken by The Mangler.

  Feeling braver, he jumped off the porch and made his way around the side of the house. Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he got closer to the backyard. Everything seemed so quiet around him except for those leaves, when suddenly he felt his heart stop. The neighbor’s dog, just on the other side of the wooden fence, surprised him with a deep angry growl. Brandon almost ran into the side of the house moving away from the dog. The dog continued barking until its owner whistled for it to stop, and with a final bark, the dog left its post.

  Breathing a little easier after the scare, Brandon noticed how much darker it was in the shadows between the houses. He walked to the middle of the small backyard where the sunlight was still shining. The warmth of the sun made him feel safer. This was the first time he had been in the backyard. He looked at the back wall of the house. The paint was dry and chipping more than the front of the house.

  The wood-framed house sat on blocks as many of the older homes did in that neighborhood. Brandon noticed how dark it looked beneath the house and changed his view to the backdoor. A padlock fastened to a latch, secured the door. He was too short to look into the back windows, but the door had a small window that he could look in.

  The back porch was half the size of the front. The wooden door looked newer than the rest of the house, and the window on it was too small for anyone to climb through. To his disappointment, Brandon was a couple of inches too short to look in the window, but after a quick look around the yard he saw a plastic milk crate. After placing it at the base of the door he climbed up and looked inside the house through the little window. The back room was the kitchen, stove still in place. Assorted paper and trash were on the dusty floor with a doorway to the front room on the right, and on the left a hallway to the rest of the house. His eyes left the hallway, moving back towards the door, when out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something move in the hallway, his eyes stayed fixed in that direction. Nothing moved as he looked in. Just as he was about to climb off of the crate, he saw a shadow moving at the end of the hall.

  “Hey! What are you doing there!?” A voice called out from behind.

  Brandon froze, afraid to turn around, his eyes still looking into the hallway.

  “Get away from there boy!” the man said, his voice sounding familiar.

  Hesitantly, Brandon turned around to see who was at the bottom of the steps. The familiarity of the voice became clear when he saw who was standing there.

  The man looked just like Jake. Brandon, still standing on the crate and shocked by what he saw, fell back against the door. He shook his head trying to clear his vision, while he tried to figure out what was happening, the man spoke again.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The door rattled against Brandon’s back. The banging came from inside the house. Brandon felt trapped. He gave a quick look at the man, jumped off the crate and ran off the side of the small porch. He turned the corner of the house and ran to his bike, never looking back.

  Jake’s brother, who Brandon did not know, was taking care of Jake’s house while it was being sold. He shook his head as he watched the scared boy run away.

  “Damn kids!”

  He walked up the steps and to the door. He thought he had heard a knocking on the door too. After looking inside the house through the window and seeing nothing, he picked up the crate and tossed it off the side of the porch.

  Scared and breathing heavy, Brandon rode his bike home as fast as he could. Originally, before his visit to the backyard, he had intended to ride by the old hospital. Now, all he wanted to do was get home. He wasn’t sure about what he just saw, but he knew that Coleman wasn't done with him.

  Two days passed before Brandon decided to do anything, outside of leaving his house. He was scared, but made up his mind to fight back against his dead enemy. He hadn’t heard from Doug or Kyle during that time, which was a relief, considering how Doug always put the pressure on him, knowing he knew more than he was letting on. Kyle was Doug’s friend, but was nothing like him. As a matter of fact, Brandon liked Kyle. He could see them turning into good friends if it wasn’t for Doug’s mental bullying. Kyle was his own person, but as Brandon had come to learn, Kyle was a prisoner in Doug’s world.

  Brandon rode his bike to the library. The library was next to the land where the hospital once stood. His new-found bravery willed him to find out as much information as he could, so he could defeat his nemesis.

  Before going into the library, Brandon stopped by the old hospital site. He wondered if what Doug had told him was true—that something was being built on the land. The empty piece of land looked a lot smaller than when the hospital stood there. And true to Doug’s word, most of the ground was cleared, and piles of dirt stood at various spots on the outer edges of the property. A sign, propped up by wooden stakes, stated something about the new happenings, but it faced away from where he was standing. He was sure it said: COMING SOON…

  Thinking back to that night, and everything he witnessed, standing near it again made him feel uneasy. He didn’t know how to feel about something being built there, and he guessed it really didn’t matter what it was as long as it didn’t bring it back to haunt whoever worked there. One thing he did know was . . . it would find him.

  Brandon pushed his bike forward and headed for the library entrance.

  A storm, much like the one the night he saw Jake and The Mangler in the window, brewed outside. At first, it could be heard off in the distance coming from the north. The sounds reminded him immediately of the hospital and of Jake.

  He found out as much as he could about David Henry Coleman. Articles in magazines and newspapers reported the serial killing spree over the years and he found most of the information o
nline. He heard that someone planned to make a movie, but he didn’t have time to wait for that. He didn’t really know what he expected to find out about Coleman, but if he could find something, anything, maybe a weak spot, he might have a chance.

  One show ran on the BIO Channel and Brandon took notes. He had to watch it when his parents weren’t around, but a lot of what they covered, he had already found out in his own searching. The more he researched and learned about Coleman, the more confident he became that he might be able to stop him. Since that day at Jake’s old house, nothing strange had happened, leaving him unsure when he would appear again.

  The school day went well and Brandon felt like he was finally picking up what Mrs. McChessney was teaching in American History. He had done very well on the last two tests and hoped to raise his grade by the end of the six-week period. He liked that the school was close enough that he could ride his bike, and that his parents trusted him enough to do so. All things considered, he felt older. The house and his school were on the other side of town from the hospital and Jake’s house—something he was grateful for. He didn’t have a fear of either, but not seeing them every day helped him grow stronger against whatever The Mangler had planned next. He knew that more was to come.

  The sun was still high in the sky when he glided the last few feet up his driveway to the front porch. He didn’t notice at first, but stuck in the front door of the house was a sickle, just like the one Coleman used. The sickle, shiny and new, was about three-quarters of the way up the door. The black handle, suspended in the air, attached to the brand new blade stuck in the wooden door.

  Brandon let go of his bike without dropping the kickstand, and it fell with a rattling clunk to the ground. He stared in disbelief, mesmerized by the sight. After a few seconds, he looked around the front porch for any other things that might be left around, mainly, a set of chains.

  With apprehension, he slowly walked to the front door, his eyes never leaving the sickle. Now standing only a couple of feet from the door, he looked up at the intimidating sight. Trying to decide what to do next, he took a quick glance around the front yard. The only comfort in the moment was the sun shining brightly down on the yard and street.

  A mother pushing her baby in a stroller, another feeling of comfort, walked happily down the sidewalk, never noticing Brandon. He turned back to the door, and just as he made up his mind to grab it and pull it out of the door, he heard a thumping coming from inside the house. His hand froze, now only inches from the black handle. His eyes darted around both sides of the door, waiting for more sounds. The scene reminded him of his visit to Jake’s house.

  Is The Mangler haunting me?

  He tried to clear his head of the thought, and while scared but determined, he reached out to dislodge the tool.

  Something crashed against the front window. His body tensed. Small rocks bounced off the window to the porch floor. Brandon quickly turned to his right and saw Doug with some other boy he didn’t know, poking their heads up from behind the hedges just in front of the house. They laughed and ran away. Brandon wanted to chase after them, but thought better of it. He could hear them laughing and saying something about The Mangler coming back.

  Now, he was alone again and turned back to the sickle. Just as he reached up to grab it, a pounding from the other side of the door caused it to fall to the floor, scaring him. The sickle rattled on the floor. He stepped back, now near the steps, and grabbed the railing. Taking a deep breath, and determined to fight through his fear, he walked to the front door, eyes on the sickle. He took a quick glance over at the rocks that lay on the floor—a reminder that this was all a joke.

  Despite not knowing what pounded against the door from inside, he summoned his bravery and picked up the tool. He slowly stood with the tool in his grasp. The handle felt good in his hand, surprising him. He was no longer scared, and he almost found a smile come across his face when he jokingly thought of using it to get back at Doug. Now standing straight, he looked up at the door and could not find the hole where the sickle was lodged, an uneasiness set in. The rocks were still there, a reminder of Doug’s joke.

  The sound of a car coming up the street made Brandon hide the sickle in front of him, his back still turned to the street. Hoping it wasn’t either one of his parents, he glanced over his shoulder. The white station wagon belonged to a family a few houses up the street.

  Breathing easier, he looked up at the door again, still looking for the hole. He reached up, not finding the mark, and only felt the smooth surface of the painted door. Looking down at the sickle, he decided to hide it with some of his old bicycle parts. As he walked around the house to the backyard, he looked back at the door and wondered who or what banged against it. A breeze blew across the porch, giving him a chill.

  Brandon’s father brought home a copy of The Baytown Star a couple of days later. The headlines read: Old St. Vincent Hospital Land Purchased. The article told of the coming business, Bay Coast Medical Center, and how long it might take to build it. The official ground-breaking would be the following week. It was all just another reminder of everything that had happened. It just wouldn’t go away.

  As far as his parents were concerned, the hospital's demolition was the best thing that could have happened. They felt that it would help him get past that tragic night. And if that night was the only time that he had experienced any of the evil, then maybe, it could be something he could put behind him. But as he knew, and no one else did, he had experienced much more than just one night. His experience over a year ago, and the things still happening now, were enough to last a lifetime. With Jake gone, there was no one to talk to about it, and surely no one who would understand, much less, take him serious.

  He thought of Jake every day and always felt a sense of guilt over Jake being murdered by Coleman. If it hadn’t been for him and all the other kids being there that night, Jake may still be alive. Jake had it under control until everyone messed it up. In the back of his mind, he knew he would see Jake again as a ghost, or in some other form, but he knew that he was pretty much on his own.

  Knowing that Coleman was just as dead as Jake, Brandon waited each day for The Mangler to strike again—this time, maybe, finishing him off for good. Although he knew more than everyone about what happened, he still felt helpless.

  Thursday after school, Brandon got home without any jokes being played on him like a few days earlier. He took a glass from the cabinet, filled it at the sink, and looked out into the backyard at his pile of old bike parts, knowing that the sickle was hidden underneath. After his third gulp of water, and with the glass still up to his lips, he stopped swallowing and stared at his little junk pile. Hanging from a hook on the side of the storage room, just above the pile, was a long rusty chain. His mind raced with questions as he lowered the half-full glass to the counter.

  Placing both hands on the counter, he leaned over, trying to get a better look.

  That chain wasn’t there yesterday.

  He found his heart racing faster, trying not to think of how it got there. Looking to find the sickle, he stared at the pile of bicycle parts, but from that distance he couldn’t make out anything in the garbled mess. Now he noticed how quiet the house was inside. Quiet and deserted. Goose bumps covered his skin, and with that realization, his mind told him to leave, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off of the chain. He wanted to go outside and see if it was real, but felt that if he took his eyes off the chain, it would disappear.

  Everything felt strange, the house, the chain hanging outside, and the feeling that he was being watched. He decided to walk out the back door and across the yard to where the chain was hanging. As he opened the back door, he was a little surprised that the chain was still there. The wind picked up as he crossed the yard, adding to the cold feeling in his body. He looked to the left and to the right as he stepped into the sunlight. Stepping slower but closer, he was only a couple of feet from it. The chain hung as if it knew it was on di
splay for everyone to see, as if it warranted a display in a museum. It was creepy and scary for Brandon to think so deeply about a stupid chain, but he couldn’t help remembering how Coleman used one to hang Jake.

  He was also reminded of his visit to Jake’s backyard, just like this . . . in the daytime. Taking a half-hearted step closer, trying to decide whether to grab it or not, a rattling from inside the storage shed made him stop. He took a step back and heard the shed door opening on the other side. Another step back, and he was now in view of the door. The door creaked to a stop. Leaves cracked underneath him as he stepped outside the door.

  His father came around the corner, much to Brandon’s relief.

  “Dad?”

  “Hey son, did I scare you?” his dad asked.

  “No,” he said, trying to sound brave. “Why are you home so early Dad?”

  “My truck broke down this morning, so I got off early to get some things in case I need to tow it home,” his dad told him, as he set a small tool box down near the chain. “I borrowed this chain from Mr. Herring, next door.” His dad reached over and lifted it off of the hook and hung it over his shoulder.

  Brandon almost laughed out loud at his overreaction, and for letting his imagination get the best of him.

  His dad looked at him. “Everything okay, son?”

  He looked up at his dad and smiled. “I’m okay. I better go do my homework,” he said, looking to get away from the awkward moment.

  His dad looked at him, still not convinced.

  “I’ll be inside,” Brandon said.

  “I’m getting a ride to my truck. Will you be okay here alone?”

  The word, alone, made Brandon stop and think. Normally, he was never afraid or worried about staying alone in the house, but this time, with his imagination running wild, he didn’t care to go back in the house by himself. Not wanting his dad to suspect he was afraid, he said, “I’ll be okay Dad.”

  “Okay. Make sure to lock the doors until your mother gets home.”

  The chains rattled as he walked away. Brandon watched his dad disappear around the corner of the house, moving to the front. He quickly walked to the back door and inside, locking it behind him. He walked a few steps to the front room and opened the blinds and could see his dad throwing the chain into the back of his friend’s truck.

  The truck drove away, and suddenly the house felt darker.