The Cabin Is Always Hungry

Arc 3 | Hells Grace (10)

HELLS GRACE

Part 10

[ System updating … ]

Huh? What’s this about now?

[ Dread Score changed for archetype: The Oracle ]

Curious, I expanded the prompt, and it pushed me back into the System interface. Oracle was thrilled by the new designation the System had given him. A Dread Score of 9 was the highest score my archetypes had ever received (and the demon had an eight). What would a ten be like? A world-destroyer? Oracle is capable of that if given the chance. Lucky for humanity, I didn’t want to destroy the planet since I still live in the goddamn rock.

“Congratulations, bolt!” the demon exclaimed, smiling genuinely. “You managed to knock me down my pedestal. How wonderful of you!”

Goliath gave Oracle a big thumbs up, and I could sense the static building around Oracle’s monitor, brimming with excitement. I was happy for him, too. He’s like a kid who just got a big bowl of Halloween candies from all the houses throughout the neighborhood.

“No longer the top dog, demon,” I said jokingly.

“Oh, my lord, if we were in Hell, I’d knock Bolt here off his rankings by midnight. Permanently.” She flashed an evil grin. “But this is your domain—your world. We archetypes must stick together and support each other. We are all…friends…here.”

For an all-knowing entity, the System seemed to have miscalculated Oracle’s potential as a monster until I demonstrated how to wield him. There must not be a lot of technologically dominant worlds out there when everything seemed tailored for magic, given what the System offered for purchase with its traps, dungeons, traits, supplies, and power. It learned that the traits I mashed together to create Oracle would dominate a world like Earth, where every device had an electronic component, and that humans were obsessed with it (practically glued to the damn thing).

I was thankful for that. It allowed me to see everything.

I ordered Oracle to ensure that all the traffic lights the Hodges drove past were green toward Point Hope. But I didn’t expect him to cause a ten-wheeler truck’s battery to drain in a few seconds, causing a massive twenty-vehicle pile-up (fortunately, it did not kill any people, although there were many injured), stranding it in the middle of Highway 99 East, and blocking off hundreds of commuters, paving the way for the Hodges to have a smooth drive through a supposed rush hour traffic.

Once Oracle notified me that the Hodges were fifteen minutes from the town limits, I sent the texts to lure Chris, Clay, and Zack to the cabin, which was much easier than I thought. Humans are emotional creatures who act irrationally when you shatter their safety bubble, especially poor Chris Torres and his soon-to-be imploding marriage.

Pretending to be Clay’s “spurned girlfriend,” I sent a stunned Chris all of the screenshot texts that Clay and Rebecca shared for months (including all the sexting they did and the pictures and sex tapes to prove their affair) and pinned the location that Clay and Rebecca were currently in the cabin for the night. As an added twist to the knife, I texted Chris (as Rebecca) that she was working overtime due to the massacre in Green Hill, which freed her to spend the night in this cabin. I didn’t have to spur Chris further to fill in the damn blanks and watch the rage simmer.

After thirty minutes of staring at the empty screen of his phone (now placed on the coffee table), Chris grabbed his car keys, went up to the bedroom, and grabbed Rebecca’s revolver hidden in a safe underneath the bed. He knew the combination for emergencies just in case a thief broke through the house, which was not far from the truth. Someone did wreck his house and blew up his marriage.

In Clay’s apartment, he took a quick shower and got ready once he received “Rebecca’s texts” telling him to come to the cabin she rented for the two of them. “A night where they can be alone and away from the world.” Clay was a hopeless romantic. It was easy to manipulate him, especially when I added that Chris would be out of town for a few days, leaving them alone to be with each other. Who wouldn’t be tempted to go to a remote cabin where it’s just them? I watched his breath quickening, the heat running to his cheeks. He loved this woman, and I wondered if Rebecca felt the same.

Masquerading as Jenna Batten, I told Zack Bird to drop his son, Danny, to the cabin as well, where she and her friends were currently staying for the night, safe and tucked away from whatever was happening in town after the massacre (the local authorities had mandated a curfew past eight PM). Out of frustration or low opinion of his ex-wife, Zack believed the text anyway and drove toward the cabin with Danny in the backseat.

With the bait all set, it was time to lure the rest.

Rebecca Torres climbed out of the squad car and glanced at her phone. Melanie had sent her a text twenty minutes ago (which I allowed to go through, except for the others), ordering her to grab the Burton girl. She regarded the hospital across the parking lot with a heavy sigh. It was clear she didn’t want to do it. Turned her into a lackey now that Alvin was nowhere to be found–even after repeated texts from the others–so the cultists had leaned on Rebecca’s position as the sheriff’s deputy to do the dirty work.

To kidnap Tessa Burton.

She used to be relegated to the clean-up and not doing the crime itself. She was the one who made sure that all the CCTV cameras in the area were scrubbed off, the witnesses paid off, and any footprint of the cult’s activities in town gone before anyone could blink. She was good at it, too. Good at ensuring my disappearance had been a footnote in the past week alone. Good at checking the Castles didn’t put their foot where they shouldn’t be. But kidnapping? That was Alvin’s job. Maybe Kirk’s. Being a teacher and a leading figure on campus like Coach Hodge, Kirk was a scouter for the limitless supply of innocent blood from Point Hope High School.

A gray van pulled up to a crawl beside her, and Kirk lowered the passenger side’s window, where Jenna was sitting.

“Are you sure about this, Becca?” Jenna asked.

Rebecca shrugged. “It’s Hodge and Melanie’s orders.”

“But why?”

“Best not to ask any questions,” Kirk said. “We still haven’t told them that Alvin’s gone AWOL.”

“And we shouldn’t,” Rebecca hissed. “If we tell them that we disobeyed their orders and went for Maxine, we’re screwed.”

“Technically, Alvin’s got her tied up,” Jenna said.

“So we’ll tell them once we all get there. They’ll probably thank us since we got the hard part out of the way.”

Kirk scratched his chin. “I don’t like keeping secrets from Hodge. Alvin’s not answering us anymore. What if Maxine got away?”

“Oh my god, you are such a downer,” Jenna said. “Didn’t Alvin say he’s bringing some of his guys? They’re probably busy scouring the property for the gem. Signal’s awful in Cedar Lake, you know. I’ve been there a few times to go boating with my ex.”

“Still. I would have preferred to be updated occasionally,” Kirk said. “It’s a common courtesy, but Alvin’s an asshole, and I don't trust these guys he has brought. What if they keep the gem to themselves?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes and muttered, “I am surrounded by the stupidest people…”

“Hey!” Jenna screeched. “We’re here to help you. We don’t even have to be here.”

“And I’m thankful for that, but could you please take this seriously? You guys already know where to park the van—”

“At the back—” Kirk and Jenna replied.

“—yes, at the back. There are not a lot of cameras there, but make sure you don’t get past the garbage containers. Watch the exit door like I showed you, and I’ll come out with the girl.”

“What about the cameras inside?” Kirk asked.

“It’s a small town, Kirk, and this isn’t a casino,” Rebecca said. “No one’s watching the monitors, and I know Bobby. Tonight’s his shift, and that motherfucker cannot guard a door to save a life. Heck, another bite of a doughnut might kill him.”

“Hodge wants to meet us by the road in fifteen minutes,” Jenna reminded her. “We’re running late.”

“I know,” Rebecca said, annoyed. Taking a deep breath, she marched toward the hospital. The van drove past and disappeared into a corner.

No one batted an eye when Rebecca showed up in the lobby. The staff had seen many cops since Tessa was brought in with the bodies from Green Hill carried into the sub-level basement, where Dr. Cordova and his assistant coroners were busy examining them. It had been a long forty-eight hours for Point Hope, and the rumors of the gnarly corpses they kept beneath their feet fanned the staff’s gossip for the next two days.

Rebecca timed it perfectly. The two cops in the lobby were in the midst of changing shifts and were nowhere to be seen. Someone would return here in a minute, but Rebecca had already taken the elevator. Even Tony, the cop posted outside Tessa’s door, was already gone. She made sure to draw him out before they arrived at the hospital. Tony and his wife recently had a baby boy, and a little emergency call from the wife sent Tony running down those steps and driving back home. Of course, Rebecca promised someone would take his place and was sending them right now. She made sure not to speak to anyone on the way in, cutting off any chances that would put a face to anyone who ever asked about tonight in case everything turned to shit.

Lucky for her, it had been a slow month at the hospital. No other patients were next door (only seven were on this floor). She caught the floor nurse and a couple of CNAs trying to convince an elderly patient to take her medicine, and Rebecca slipped past them without notice. Tessa’s room was deliberately placed at the end of the hall in a corner room since it’s easy to defend. It was also the most secluded area, hidden from the nurse’s station, and the exit stairwell was only two doors down.

She hid in the next room when she heard people coming out the door. Two of Tessa’s friends—Charlene and Daisy—left Tessa’s room. They talked about what snacks to bring her. They were going to watch a movie since Charlene got her laptop and had a couple of rom-coms downloaded from Netflix.

“Lana and Paul are taking forever. I’m so hungry,” Charlene complained.

“They bought chicken noodle soup from Chan’s,” Daisy said. “You know how slow they are.”

Charlene sighed. “Tess wants iced tea, and I saw a vending machine downstairs. They also got chips and red vines…” Her voice grew faint as she and Daisy sauntered out of earshot.

Rebecca slipped into Tessa’s room. An hour ago, Tessa’s parents went home to grab more of her things from her bedroom (the ones not destroyed by the demon and splattered with her boyfriend’s blood). They’d be back soon, not that Rebecca knew, but she felt fortunate that no one was inside. It saved her the trouble of taking them out.

Tessa stirred on the bed when she heard the door closed, Rebecca’s shadow looming beside it, beyond the gloom of the lone light from the bedside lamp.

“Charlene, Daisy? You guys are back already?” She called out.

Rebecca stepped into the light and approached the bed.

“Oh! Officer Torres. I…I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”

Rebecca didn’t speak. She pulled something out of her pocket, out of Tessa’s view.

“Um,” Tessa shifted uncomfortably. “Does the sheriff have more questions for me again? He was here a couple of hours ago…” She didn’t want to answer any more questions, not when it all related to the massacre and that her boyfriend was really dead. The reality of that fact hit her like a brick. She wanted to forget it ever happened. She wanted to believe that Cody was still alive somehow.

Rebecca heaved a sigh. “I’m not here for that, sweetie.” Then, she lunged forward.

Tessa had barely any time to react. Still injured, pinned against the bed, a cloth over her nose and mouth, and she breathed in the intoxicating substance that clung to it. Her eyes rolled over in a few seconds; Her struggle waned to stillness.

I could have stopped it. I could have warned Charlene and Daisy. I could have alerted the nurse with a ping on the pager strapped to her belt. I could have stopped the message from getting to Tony; the cop would still be outside the door, complicating Rebecca’s plans. There were a dozen things I could have done to stop the cult from grabbing Tessa.

But if they failed to get her, they wouldn’t willingly come to the cabin. Sure, I had my insurance. Once Rebecca and Jenna knew that their loved ones were there, orders or not, they would rush over to me. Kirk would follow. He did not want the contents of his laptop released, and his life would be over. Coach Hodge and Melanie were the only enigma and the bigger fish to consume. They had no skeletons in their closet (aside from the cult), and if they did, they kept it well hidden from any devices that Oracle could access. They probably wouldn’t come to the cabin if they didn't have the girl. They seemed to brush off Dave, Ashley, and Adam’s deaths—three crucial members of his sect—like it was nothing. If Jenna, Rebecca, and Kirk die tonight, they’ll be safe in their house, far from my reach.

No, they wouldn’t risk it. They would wait for reinforcements.

The Havashar Society would eventually find out that Jonas was dead. I could kill the Hodges with Oracle and risk my monsters outside my borders to retrieve them, but if any of them die, they would be gone for real.

I wanted their essence.

I wanted Coach Hodge under my finger and watched him squirm until sunrise.

I wanted to play.

I wanted him to know it was me.

Me!

But I couldn’t have that if they were in the fucking town, hiding like cockroaches. Who knows what kind of magical protection their house has?

No, no, no, no, no…

They’re mine. They’re all mine tonight.

And I will feed gloriously.

Rebecca hovered her index finger under Tessa’s nostrils. Still breathing. Still alive. She moved to the closet and pulled out the wheelchair. Made sure to shut off the machine before it beeped and warned the nurses on the station. Tessa was a small girl, and it was easy for Rebecca to lift her off the bed and onto the chair. She wheeled the unconscious girl into the empty hallway and the waiting elevator.

She would have gotten away with it, too.

She didn’t count on Tessa’s friends by the empty cafeteria on the ground floor. I watched through the CCTV cameras throughout the building.

“Did you see that?” Daisy asked. A cold bottle of Iced Tea dropped through the hole in the vending machine.

Through the double doors with the large windows outside the cafeteria, Rebecca wheeled Tessa out through the service corridor, which led to the back of the building. It was quick, barely a split second, but Daisy saw them go past the doors and disappear.

“See what?” Charlene asked, grabbing the bottle through the hole. “Shit. I grabbed the unsweetened one. Daisy, do you have another five bucks?”

“Char, I swear I saw something.”

“What is it?”

“A cop,” she said. I realized the hallway outside was too dark to see clearly. Too dark to see Rebecca. “And I think it’s Tessa in the wheelchair.”

“Tessa? On a wheelchair? What are you talking about?” Daisy grabbed her wrist and dragged her outside the door. “But the snacks—”

“Forget the snacks. I think it’s Tessa. I swear.” The muffled swing and click of a door at the end of the hall drew Daisy to pick up her pace once she stepped out of the cafeteria. Charlene grumbled after her. “Follow me.”

“This is so creepy, Daisy,” Charlene said. “Are you sure it was Tess you saw?”

“I’m sure,” Daisy said, uncertain, but there was only one way to be sure. It was clear that she (and the rest of the town) had been on edge since the massacre. Even while I stood several miles away, I could feel it through the air; darkness suffused into the Earth like a vestigial organ I had discarded and forgotten—the Yates Residence. Even now, I still have a sliver of a connection to it after I cut myself off from its influence, though fading by the day. The same link that tethered me to Tessa Burton.

She survived the previous dungeon, but I wondered—with a thrill and eagerness—what would happen if she entered the new one.

I watched Kirk, Jenna, and Rebecca loaded the unconscious Tessa into the van. Rebecca quickly left the scene before the door closed and marched around the hospital building toward the parking lot, where she left her squad car.

“Come on!” Daisy grabbed Charlene’s hand, ran toward the service driveway, and ducked behind the dumpsters; the van reversed back to the front of the hospital. The girls were careful not to alert Kirk behind the wheel, and they immediately recognized their English teacher once he climbed out of the vehicle and hoisted Tessa into the back.

He didn’t see that Daisy and Charlene were hiding behind the dumpster, watching it all unfold with bulging eyes and their hands clasped over their mouths, afraid to squeak.

“Should we call the cops?” Charlene whimpered close to Daisy’s ears. “Oh my god, they took Tess!”

“Shut up. They might still hear us,” Daisy hissed. She pulled out her phone from her jacket’s pocket.

“Drain the batteries,” I ordered Oracle.

Daisy was about to punch in the three numbers when her screen flashed twice before it died. “Shit!” She exclaimed. “My battery died.”

Charlene checked her phone. “Mine, too. That’s weird. I charged it this afternoon.”

They reached the front of the hospital, glimpsing only the fading tail lights of the van and Rebecca’s squad car exiting left and heading north.

“Fuck! We missed it! Quick! Where did you park your car?” Daisy asked. The two girls stood above the CCTV camera next to the street light.

Charlene ruffled through her pockets and fished out her car keys. “Should we go after them?”

“Follow me.” Daisy rushed toward the sliding entrance doors. “There’s cops posted on the lobby. We should tell them that Tess got kidnapped. Maybe they can chase them down?”

“Was that really Mr. Gamble? Who was the other woman?”

“Officer Torres, I think. We met her last spring when the school did that assembly for self-defense demonstration, remember?”

Charlene nodded. “But if she’s a cop…are the other cops behind it, too?”

Daisy stopped in her tracks. “No, that can’t be.”

“She walked into the hospital and wheeled Tess out. A cop is bound to see her when she’s not supposed to be here. Where’s the cop posted outside the door? He was gone when we left for the vending machines. Maybe he’s in on it, too.”

Daisy refused to believe it. “They can’t all be on it.”

“I don’t know, Daisy. I’m scared. What should we do?” Charlene clutched tighter on her car keys.

“I—” Daisy stammered, shaking. Adrenaline coursing through her veins. “I don’t know! Shit! This is so fucked up, Char!”

These girls were loose ends. I didn’t want them alerting the cops and searching for Rebecca Torres. The police department tracked squad cars like hers via the GPS installed into the vehicles. They would know where she was if these girls blabber to the Sheriff about Tessa’s kidnapping and that his freaking deputy did it. Sure, Oracle could block the GPS from pinging the police of her true location, misdirect them to the other side of town, but the entirety of Point Hope would be in high alert, scouring for Tessa all night (She’s still seventeen, so the police would trigger the AMBER alert across the entire state). I didn’t want a hundred people stumbling into my dungeon when I live twenty-two minutes away while they have a search party in the woods.

I want the entire night to myself and my fucking food!

Let me eat in peace!

A few blocks away, more of Tessa’s friends, Lana and Paul, were driving toward the hospital. They were bound to see Charlene and Daisy outside the building, panicking.

“Potential delvers, my liege?” The demon asked eagerly, watching all of this unfold. “They are close by. Easy to pull the strings and lead them to the cabin…”

“Our focus is the cultists. These teenagers are just an obstacle,” I said. “They will tell the cops if we don’t stop them. Oracle can stop any 911 calls, but I can’t stop them from going to the station physically.”

Unless I hurt them.

Once Paula and Lana arrived and decided to go after Kirk’s van, Oracle could lock them inside the Tesla and trigger the auto-pilot feature, then drive them through the street light at fifty miles per hour. They’re in front of the hospital already, so if they get seriously injured, help was only a hundred feet away.

Or it could be a sudden green light on an intersection with an oncoming car from the flank. Cause an accident that would render them badly injured and hopefully unconscious. Long enough for me to feed alone and undisturbed by wailing police sirens, the first responders, and drawn guns.

Doing the battery trick Oracle pulled on the truck on the highway would keep them alive, but then they could walk to the police station. Sure, it’ll take them thirty minutes to walk from the hospital, but they’ll get there eventually, and I would have limited means to stop them from crossing that door and entering the sheriff’s office.

But then…I could also just kill them all. The teenagers, the first responders, and the cops included. Turn this cabin into an all-you-can-eat buffet. How much could I feed in one night?

Ten?

Twenty?

Fifty?

Do I even want to find out what a satiated dungeon feels like?

It must be magical.

“But maybe I could use this to my advantage,” I said.

“How so?” The demon asked.

“If the cultists escaped my dungeon tonight—and that’s a big if—they won’t have a town to return to. Cut the strings of where their power lies and kneecap them. I will plaster their faces on every wanted poster on every street and every screen once the police are after them. I could pin the massacre on these fucks. Get the scent off my back. These teenagers will be the witnesses.”

“Wouldn’t that alert the Havashar Society?”

“Oracle can make a backup if they try to destroy the files hidden in Hodge, the others’ computers, or their phones. Pin it to Jonas and the headquarters in Portland. We’ll re-upload them and let the cops scour through their activities. Let them learn about all the people they have killed over the years.” It would be damning. “It would be a scandal that would sink the Havashar Society for a few months before the next trendy tragedy comes along and all the keyboard justice warriors online have moved on.”

That would buy me time. I didn’t know who Jonas contacted in London, but they must be very powerful. Hopefully, it would occupy them for a long time dealing with their organization linked to a freaking murder cult and the press hounding them with each gala and philanthropic bullshit they come up with to mitigate the damage to their image (which was true anyway).

And once they start coming for me, I will be a lot stronger, with more monsters and traps in my arsenal.

The cultists would have a destroyed reputation. Point Hope would not recover for years from the trauma they inflicted; the people they trusted and were the pillars of their community were a bunch of child killers and demonic worshippers. If the Green Hill massacre put Point Hope on the map, come Monday morning, the country would wake up to a real horror movie that would fuel Hollywood for a decade. After I am done with the cultists, I would make the town famous, like Elm Street, Camp Crystal Lake, Woodsboro, or Derry, Maine.

I would paint the airwaves with their flesh and bone, and I, alone, control the narrative with Oracle’s help.

Which brought me to a new idea. With rule two waived for the night, I am going to make someone famous.

“Tessa must survive tonight,” I said. “She is our Laurie Strode.”

“Er, who?” The demon asked, confused.

“Our Final Girl. If we’re going to make this a night the entire country remembers, we need a true survivor to tell the tale.” Pinning it all on the cult, of course, and not to some supernatural demi-god. I heard in a movie once that a sole survivor would be even better for the narrative.

This would be my horror movie.

I also made a mental note to host a horror movie night with the demon, Goliath, and the rest of my monsters. Maybe they’d learn a trick or two (not that they needed it). Also, I ordered Oracle to buy horror books online and sent them to the cabin, ensuring that all the monsters knew not to kill the delivery guy when he arrived.

I let Charlene and Daisy climb into Paul and Lana’s Tesla. They did not trust the cops in the hospital, so they drove to the police station unharmed by me. I watched as they marched into the station, which took the cops an hour to confirm that Tessa Burton was definitely missing and that the CCTV cameras caught Rebecca Torres wheeling her out (I made sure the police saw that damning evidence). The cops refused to believe that one of their own was a fucking criminal—arresting Tessa’s friends for public disturbance and resisting arrest instead—until the kidnapping was staring at them right in the face.

They sent out an AMBER alert in the middle of the night. All of Point Hope knew the description of the girl—the survivor of the Green Hill Massacre had been taken. It was a long night of searching for her.

A long night of desperation.

And for a few, a long night of pure terror.

Below the cabin, pinned by vines against the cavern’s walls, Leo Grady opened his eyes and drew a quivering breath.

Midnight black candles illuminated the space in dim darkness, focused on the lone withering corpse of a young boy in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by runes, organs in jars, and symbols. The air smelled of copper, refuse, and dirt. Worms and spiders crawled within rocks and protruding earth, within bodies, their hide reflected against the light’s playful flickering. Light that Leo began to adjust. His aura seeped out of his skin with a verdant green hue, fading by the minute.

“Hello?!” He croaked, voice scratchy after a long period of magical sleep. “Help!”

He tried to pull himself off the wall, but Old Growth’s knots were harder to escape. It would take a blade to tear himself off it.

Leo looked for an exit, a door, or a person watching him, but all he found was the pile of bodies scattered on the opposite corner. He immediately recognized Scottie, John, Art, and Eddie. Dead-set eyes stared back at him, and he tried not to vomit. He didn’t recognize the three bodies of Tara, Yasmine, and Steven.

He stayed up there for now, pinned with Old Growth’s vines and roots.

Not until I needed him.

Not until the right moment.

But I kept him company with his dead friends and watched his Resolve begin to tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick…

Until the floorboards creaked overhead. Footsteps, whispers, screams, and the cackling laughter after it. Blades singing. The rotors and saw running. The smell and trickle of piss and blood seeped down the floor’s cracks.

Dripping, and dripping, and dripping…

Then, I hovered over him. So close I could see the beads of sweat trickling down his cheek. “I give you strength,” I said, though he did not hear me. “Use it wisely, delver.”

Fear rose inside him, adrenaline at a beating frenzy. And with one pull, a root gave out, then two. Leo fell to his knees, looked up at the ceiling, and eyes gleamed with determination.

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