In the search bar, I type Magnolia Lane murder, seeing as the goat mask is a similarity. A few articles come back, none of which I haven’t read before. Except, this time, instead of just perusing the articles, I’m looking for details.
One article goes on to describe the murder of the doctor and his housekeeper, who I recognize as Brie’s grandmother, whose bodies were mutilated and missing organs.
It happened about the same time my old man skipped town, and for the longest time, I wondered if he’d played a role in the murder, seeing as he spent some time in prison when I was a kid. But then, my father wasn’t ambitious enough to pull off a murder like that. He was a gambler and a womanizer who more likely fled with some cheap piece of ass he suckered into coming with him. I just know he left my mother and me to deal with all his shitty debts.
Was the murder random, then? Or was it, as the media pointed out, that the good doctor had gotten wrapped up in something he shouldn’t have been? The presence of trinkets and bones left at the house, along with symbols painted in blood, suggested black magic. Authorities also retrieved books that seemed to be part of Doctor Pierce’s own library. Ones that detailed satanic rituals and altered Bible verses. The article described him as a man who had spiraled into madness--a dark paranoia--prior to his murder. Which ultimately gave rise to all of these theories about what happened and the house being haunted.
Even now, folks avoid the estate in fear of its ominous history. Some have reported seeing a lady in white roaming the grounds.
A former groundskeeper for Doctor Pierce was quoted as saying he’d encountered a few ghosts while working there. “I ain’t afraid of no ghosts,” he reported. “But it’s unnerving, hearing voices in the walls.”
Eyes burning, I eject the chip and lock it away in the drawer of my desk. I’ll look into it tomorrow, after I’ve gotten some sleep.
Pinching the bridge of my nose does little to abate the ache in my eyeballs, and I settle into my chair to relax a minute. I need to absorb the information I’ve gathered so far.
The path ahead disappears beneath the dark canopy of trees looming overhead, as I follow my old man deeper into the woods. All sounds turn heavy, the air suffocating in the blackness that lurks outside of my flashlight’s arc. As if magnified, the rattling of leaves shakes, like the cold shiver that races down my spine. The clicking and chirping of insects somehow louder than before. A noxiously sweet smell of death permeates the air.
“Pop.” The young timber of my voice is foreign to me, innocent, still untouched by the horrors I would soon witness.
My father doesn’t bother to turn, his direction and determination undeterred.
Eerie caws of birds echo with warnings of what lies ahead, the path as familiar as the fear that skates across the back of my neck.
“Pop, wait.”
Still no response from him, as he continues to lead me farther and farther from the light. Veering off the path, we cross over fallen brush, and earth softens into warm marsh. My father comes to a stop, just before a clearing. Minutes seem to pass in the span of seconds.
He falls to his knees and slips the barrel of the gun into his mouth.
“Pop? What are you doing? Stop!”
Pain pierces my elbow, down to my bones, as I wrench my arm away from sharp teeth, set beneath black, lifeless eyes.
The eyes of a black wolf.
I jolt forward in my chair on a gasp of breath, the phantom pain of teeth still lodged into my flesh. Peeling back the sleeve of my dress shirt shows no new blood, or injury. Only the protracted ridges of an old scar. No cause for the pain. Running a hand down my face, I exhale a breath, looking around to find I fell asleep in my office.
The dream is familiar to me. One I’ve had a number of times over the years, always ending the same way--the wolf returns to attack before my father has the chance to pull the trigger.
Polishing off the last of my drink, I push up from my desk, and pause in the hallway on the way to the living room. I open the door to the bedroom and peek inside, find Céleste sprawled out on my