Chapter 11 – The Possession

I raised my head off of Marianne’s shoulder, blinking heavily. The orange glow of streetlights washed over us intermittently, and I looked out the window to see that we were on the interstate, moving at a decent clip. “How long was I asleep for?” I asked quietly, noting that Tiffany and James had also dozed off, and Amy seemed to be asleep in the front seat.

“Just about thirty minutes. You should sleep more,” Marianne suggested. “We’re on our way to Huntsville.”

I raised my eyebrows looking over to Will, who looked weary as he drove us. “I just blurted out Huntsville in a fit. Birmingham was closer.”

“I think there’s somebody that you should see in Huntsville,” Marianne said. “Somebody that might help you.”

“Are they a hypnotist that can erase all of this from our memories?” I asked, cutting my eyes at her. “’Cause I’ve got friends dead, and I’ve seen things I can’t explain, and I’m not gonna be able to just forget this any time soon.”

“You’ll understand more when you talk to her. Her name is Inga Bludstan,” Marianne said softly.

“Bludstan? Like Victorvina’s family?” I shifted slightly to study her features. I was concerned at the slightly mournful expression on her face. “What’s your part in all of this, Mari?”

Marianne took a deep breath, sighing it back out again. “I can’t tell you, because it’s part of what you aren’t supposed to remember. I first met you when we were sixteen, and all that happened after that…You’re never supposed to know. It’s part of why I work at the library. So that I could stop you from goin’ too deep. I didn’t realize how far you’d actually gotten.”

“What does that mean? How far is too far?” I shook my head, trying to clear it. My thoughts felt foggy, and even the air felt heavy, almost too thick to breathe. I would have rolled down a window, but I didn’t want the noise to bother anyone else. “What happened eleven years ago that’s so bad?”

“That’s just when it started. It’s what happened…Nothing happened. That’s what you need to repeat to yourself. Nothing happened eleven years ago. You were sixteen, then seventeen, and then you were an adult with a different life,” Marianne said. “I told you who you really are because it’s important that you know that much. Important that you know, so you don’t delve any further into this.”

“My friends are dyin’, Marianne. You could die, now, too.” The words ran out of my mouth before I really had time to process them, and as soon as I’d spoken them the wind felt knocked out of my lungs, and my mind caught up to me. I realized how much I really worried for Marianne. Suddenly, I was aware that I didn’t want to lose her, just as it would hurt me to lose any of my friends. In fact, it might hurt me a little more, and I had no idea why. Nothing was making any sense. “If there’s a way to stop the evil in Blackwoods Bend, then I’m gonna do it. Andrew Harson started it all, and I’m gonna end it.”

Marianne gave me a sympathetic look as she took my hand into hers, knitting our fingers together. “I know that you’ll try.”

“What the hell is that?” Will asked suddenly, leaning towards the steering wheel, peering out of the windshield.

“Yeah, you’ll start to see things a little more clearly now,” Marianne said, sitting up straighter to look towards the road.

Will slowed the SUV down a little bit. We were passing through a light rain shower, and the mist and the water on the street reflected back the light of the headlights. Then I caught what they were both looking at. In the road, just ahead of us there appeared to be hundreds of footsteps appearing in the rain. A foot would go down, a foot would lift up—one right after the other. There were no figures there; no people fading in the mist, just the footprints, continuing on and on, keeping a steady pace in front of the vehicle. “What exactly are we seein’?” I asked flatly.

“They’re called the Walkers. They’re always there—rain or shine or snow, but only special people can see them. People who are touched by somethin’ not quite right,” she explained, shifting her shoulders a little as though she was uncomfortable. “They’re the souls of people who died in accidents, and they walk. For the rest of forever, they just walk in front of the cars that drive along, never gettin’ anywhere.”

“That’s dismal as all hell,” Will said, speeding the car back up. “I’m gettin’ us outta here.”

“You can’t outrun them, any more than they could outrun you,” Marianne said, sitting back against my shoulder. “They’re everywhere. The Walkers don’t know nothin’ about you or me. They just know they have to walk.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before turning my gaze to look out the window at the dark stands of trees that whizzed by along the sides of the highway. “So the nightmares exist outside of Blackwoods Bend, too.”

Marianne leaned her head against mine, meeting my gaze as I turned to look at her. “Where do you think these things get their fuel from, Danny?” she asked in a whisper.

I couldn’t help but scoff. Of course—Blackwoods Forest was the mouth of Hell. Well, I was going to shut it.

+

It had been a long time since I’d been to Huntsville, and an even longer time since I’d spent any time alone with a girl that I was interested in. We’d all checked into an inexpensive motel, making sure that we had adjoining rooms. James and Tiffany had gotten a room to themselves, and Will, Amy, Marianne, and me were sharing another. Which meant, of course, that Marianne and I were asked to give Will and Amy some privacy for a little while.

We set out walking towards a small diner near the hotel. It looked like one of those places that had been open since the burger had been invented, but those places always had the best food. We walked in silence for a few moments, and I shoved my hands into my pockets to try to hide the slight tremor of them. “You’ll have to excuse Will and Amy. They’re not usually so frisky, but with the week we’ve been having—”

“Tension’s are high,” Marianne said, shrugging a shoulder. “No, I definitely understand.”

I couldn’t keep the smirk from my face. “Oh, you do?”

“I just mean…I understand why they’d need some time alone with each other,” Marianne said with a blush. “I just—you know what I mean.”

Good. I wasn’t the only one nervous. “I do know what you mean. I’m sorry for picking at you,” I said, casting my eyes to the ground in front of my feet. We reached the diner, and I held the door open for her as she ducked underneath my arm. The waitress sat us down at a booth with an ashtray, and I pulled my cigarettes from my pocket. “Well, don’t mind if I do.”

Marianne looked at the box between us. “It’s been a long time since I smoked.”

I cut my eyes up at her as I lit a cigarette, holding it out towards her. “Not to play devil’s advocate, but do you want one?”

“Fine.” She reached out, taking it from me before putting it to her lips for a drag. “Oh, yep. There it is,” she said, closing her eyes as she leaned back in her seat, blowing out the smoke.

“Nicotine keeps the monsters away. Keeps away most of the general populous, truth be told,” I said with a tilt of my head. “I should quit, but the past few days and the evil in our town has seemed a little more dire than quitting smoking.”

“I remember when you started,” Marianne said almost absentmindedly as she flicked her ashes off in the tray. She seemed to realize what she said, and her gaze shot up to meet mine, looking startled with herself.

“Tell me, Marianne,” I said firmly, almost pleading.

The waitress walked over, clearing her throat. “What can I get y’all?” she asked, looking from me to Marianne.

The truth, with a side of my memory back. “I’ll have a coffee. Scrambled eggs, with cheese, and toast?” I asked more than stated.

The waitress wrote down my order then looked at Marianne. “And for you?”

“Bacon cheeseburger with fries and a coke,” Marianne said, nodding her head.

“What kind of coke?” the waitress asked.

“Dr. Pepper, please.” Marianne smiled at the waitress kindly. “Thank you!”

The waitress put her pen back in her apron. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

I watched her walk back behind the counter to put the ticket up on the metal pin before I turned my attention back to Marianne. “You ordered a whole cheeseburger at one in the morning?”

“It’s still dinner time. Breakfast doesn’t start until five AM,” she said as though it were a fact that everyone in the history of the south should know. “Eggs with cheese at one in the night…”

“I hadn’t gotten the memo about breakfast,” I said with a shrug, confused at the wistful expression on her face. “I’m left in the dark about a lot of things, though. Marianne, I need you to tell me what happened. I need to know so I can beat this.”

“There isn’t a way to beat it, Danny. Once it started, there was nothing to be done about it. You told me that, yourself,” she said quietly.

“When did I tell you this? I want the whole story,” I insisted, flicking the ashes off of my cigarette.

Marianne closed her eyes, humming out a sigh, appearing frustrated. “You told me that I should never tell you, or it would all start over again.”

I held a hand open on the table. “I’m pretty sure that it’s too late for that now, Mari.”

Marianne turned her head, casting her eyes to the floor, almost as if she was afraid to look at me. “When you were sixteen you moved into a house near the Forest. It had belonged to the Harson family, once upon a time, and your father inherited it when your biological great-uncle died without any heirs. I don’t know the specifics of how the executors found your dad, but he signed the papers, and moved you and your mom into the house.”

“My dad knew that we were Harsons? He knew all along?” I asked, leaning back in my seat, wondering how I could have forgotten any of this. “Nobody ever told me.”

“You told me that they didn’t think that it was important to tell you, until it was too late,” Marianne said, snuffing out her cigarette as I crushed mine in the tray.

The waitress walked back over to set our drinks down in front of us. “Should just be a few minutes, and we’ll have your food ready.” “Thank you,” Marianne said softly.

“Thanks,” I muttered as she walked away, unable to take my eyes from Marianne. Marianne gave me a sympathetic look. “Your parents tried to protect you.”

I laughed sharply as I poured two spoonfuls of sugar into my coffee. “There’s such a thing as being overprotected.”

“They loved you, Danny,” Marianne said reverently before she continued explaining. “You weren’t livin’ in the house long when things started happenin’. Scary things that your parents couldn’t explain. Then…then you started sleepwalkin’.”

“Sleepwalkin’?” The concept was completely foreign to me. The past few days full of stress and nightmares aside, I could sleep through a tornado without moving a limb. “What would I do?”

“It started with you wanderin’ out into the yard, then to the tree line. Then they’d find you just inside the woods, where the pine trees started to give way to the chestnuts.” Marianne looked at me with a kind of sadness in her eyes that set my nerves on edge.

“There’s more,” I said, feeling my blood run cold.

“Danny, I really shouldn’t be tellin’ you this,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s your rules—not mine.”

The waitress brought our food, sitting it down in front of us. “Y’all need anything else?”

“Ketchup?” Marianne asked sweetly. The way that she could shift from such a serious tone to one of pleasant contentment was almost jarring, and it made me slightly suspicious of her, though southern women were masters of masking how they really felt. She might be angry as a hornet, or shaken to her soul, but a southern woman always managed grace.

“Sure thing.” The waitress reached into a bucket holding several bottles of condiments, then she set the ketchup down in front of Marianne. “Y’all two are so cute together! If y’all need anything else, y’all just holler.”

Marianne’s eyes widened slightly. “Thank you…” She sat still for just a second, then picked up the bottle of ketchup, shaking it before she popped open the lid, pouring more ketchup over her burger and fries than I ever remembered seeing anybody use. “What?” she asked, meeting my eyes.

I raised my eyebrows, blinking at her a little. “Do you know how many tomatoes had to die for that murder scene on your plate?”

Marianne shrugged as she popped a fry into her mouth. “I like ketchup. Sue me…Wow, these are hot!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the seriousness of our conversation, and the complication of mine and Marianne’s friendship, I couldn’t help but think about how cute she was. Her gray eyes shone brightly as she looked back up at me, moving the soft waves of her light brown hair over one shoulder. Now’s not the time to become infatuated with a girl with secrets from your past, Daniel, I scolded myself, turning my eyes to my own food. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she tossed down a fry she’d just picked up. “You full?” I asked, pushing my own empty plate away from me.

“I can’t eat another bite,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d be miserable.”

The waitress walked over, taking the plates away before she refilled our drinks. I stared down at the steam rolling off of the coffee, and a memory flashed before my eyes.

Marianne was smiling down at me. The autumn sun was high in the sky, and it shone from behind her, lighting up her hair like a halo. I reached my hand over next to where I was laying on the ground beneath her, grabbing up a huge handful of leaves. I brought my hand up to drop the leaves over her head, so that they cascaded down around us, and she laughed joyfully. “Danny…”

“Danny?” Marianne called my name, and instantly I was back in the present. The breeze and the sunlight had vanished, but the girl still sat in front of me, looking at me curiously. “Daniel, are you all right?”

For a moment words wouldn’t come as my thoughts ran over what I’d just remembered. It was real, and I knew that it was, but it was like seeing through someone else’s eyes. I held Marianne’s gaze as I leaned towards her slowly, bracing an elbow on the table. “I was in love with you.”

Marianne sat up straight in her seat, chewing her bottom lip as she clasped her hands together to set them in her lap. “You loved me, and I loved you. That’s why I promised that I would do as you asked me to, and that I would keep you safe.”

“Safe from what, Marianne?” I asked, holding both of my hands open on the table. I was hurt and confused, and at the same time I was thrilled that I was finally remembering something. “What do I need to be protected from?”

She reached out, taking my hands into hers. “Yourself, Danny. You need to be kept safe from yourself.”

+

We ate our meals, then I paid for our food, and then we left the diner, walking slowly in the direction of the motel. We hadn’t spoken much since Marianne told me that I was a danger to myself. Mentally, I was trying to process everything that I was learning. I wanted to know what Marianne knew about me, yet the more that I found out the more confused I became.

“Danny, I don’t want to add to your concerns on top of what’s already happenin’,” Marianne said softly, finally breaking our silence. She shivered a little as a breeze cut through us, and I slid off my jacket pausing to help her into it. Marianne looked up at me, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment in her eyes. “I ran out of the house without a coat. I just needed to get to you, before you did somethin’ rash.”

“Why do you think I’m a danger to myself?” I asked, taking her by the hand to draw her closer to the stairwell, where the wind would be blocked a little better.

“The things that happened when we were kids, Danny…The way that you could get sometimes was scary. People started to notice. You’d snap at people in the grocery store or at the post office. Nobody ever talks about it, because they all want to forget, just like you get to forget. For the most part, nobody blames you,” she said, crossing her arms over herself.

“But there are people who do. Janet and Jonathan Hayward being two of them.” I stood closer to Marianne, blocking another cold gust as I propped my arm up on the side of the stairs near Marianne’s head. Her hair whipped over one of her eyes for a moment, and there it was—another memory.

Marianne tucked her long, light-brown hair behind her ears before she reached out her hand towards me. Weakly I stumbled backwards, digging the heels of my boots into the dirt. Red, clay-dirt. We were on the Road. I groaned in despair as I turned towards her a little, longing for comfort I couldn’t have. “Mari, you have to go. You have to get away from here. Keep away from me. It’s not safe,” I called to her as something close by drew in growling gasps, getting closer and closer.

I stared down at her, coming back to my senses, my heart thundering in my chest. “Why were we on the Road, Marianne?”

She looked up at me with wide-eyes that brimmed a little with tears. “Danny, you were…You weren’t yourself. There were whole days when I couldn’t find you. You hadn’t been home, and I was frantic. Your Aunt had given up on you. That was after—” Marianne stopped speaking abruptly, pressing her lips together.

“After what?” I felt like I needed to sit down, I felt like I needed to hold her, and I felt like I needed a shot of whiskey all at one time. I reached up to close my fingers tightly around the cold metal of the stair rail to steady myself. “What happened, Mari?”

Marianne took a deep breath. “You changed after the house burned down. Most days you were fine, and then others you’d seem like a ghost inside your own body,” she said softly. “Creepy things had been happening in and around that house as soon as your family moved there, and then with your sleep disorders, and the way that you withdrew from almost everybody else after the fire…People thought that you burned the house down on purpose.”

“Burn it down, from the inside out, burn it down, spread salt throughout,” I mumbled covered in soot and ashes. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the flames consuming everything that symbolized home for me. All of the family photo albums, all of my clothes and CDs, everything was burning. My mother was screaming, and my father was trying to keep her from running back into the blaze, but I just sat and watched it all burn. Just like I’d been told to do. “Burn it down, from the inside out…”

Those words were so vivid in my memory that I could almost hear them. I’m sure that you’re asking yourself the same question that I did then; how could I have forgotten that I burned down a whole building, while chanting a phrase that I thought merely came from a dream I’d only had recently? Maybe my subconscious mind remembered them, when my conscious mind didn’t. Maybe I was being compelled by some demon from Hell.

I certainly didn’t understand it, and I turned my sights back to Marianne, horrified at what I’d done. She, on the other hand, gazed back at me with a loving look of pity. “I know, Danny. I know that you set the fire, and I know why,” she said, gently putting her hand to my cheek. “You said that Victorvina told you to.”

“I had a nightmare a day or so ago. I think it was a few days ago—hell, all of the days are running together…Victorvina was there, Mari. She was there in my dream, and she told me to ‘burn it down’,” I said, unable to keep the fear from my tone.

“The night terrors are coming back. You haven’t been sleepin’ deeply, or long enough, so when you do get to dream you have the terrors. She’s back to full strength,” Marianne said quietly, closing her eyes briefly. “I was so close to bein’ too late.”

“Why did you wait so long to reconnect with me? All of those days I’d see you at the library, and you acted like we were just friends,” I said, taking a step to close the space between us, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. There was some kind of electric sensation wrapped around my rib cage, and my pulse raced. As if I’d done it a thousand times, I tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear, leaning to kiss her gently on the cheek before resting my forehead against hers. “Why’d you stay away?”

“You told me to,” she said in a breath, tilting her head up so that her lips were just against mine.

“Do you do everything you’re told to do?” I asked with a slight smile.

“No,” she answered quietly.

I nodded my head just slightly. “Good,” I said before I kissed her. She drew back from me just a little as I gasped at the shock of a memory that burned in my mind like a hot coal.

Her skin was soft, and she was beautiful. The dark gray blanket spread out beneath her on the ground setting off the slate color of her eyes, that seemed to catch the starlight, as she looked up at me with nothing but love and desire in her expression. “I love you, Danny,” she sighed out in a breath.

I leaned down to catch her lips with mine, every sense wrapped up in her. “I love you, Mari.”

“I love you,” she said as I returned to the present. A single tear raced down her cheek, and I quickly brought my thumb up to brush it away. Our eyes locked for a few breaths of time, and then my lips were on hers again. The stress, the fear, the madness that had become our lives melted away, and there was only the two of us. She reached her arms up around my neck, and I pulled closer to me as our kiss deepened. I felt the same as I did in the memories of her, that were coming back in flashes. I was connected to her by something stronger than fear, and in that moment I was hit by all of her love for me.

Perfect Moments aren’t meant to last. I’m not even certain that they’re suppose to exist. They’re little storms of magic, and when they’re over nothing seems as good. Reality isn’t made for Perfect Moments, like that kiss with Marianne on that dark, cold November morning. Reality is made for what happened next.

A shrill scream pierced through the air, seeming to echo off the clouds above our heads. Marianne and I turned to run in the direction of our motel rooms as more shrieking filled the night. It sounded like it was coming from James and Tiffany’s room. I tried to open the door, but of course it was locked. “Stand back, Mari!” I shouted holding onto the doorknob as I rared back, slamming my shoulder into the door. It barely budged, and I growled in frustration as the screaming turned to wails of sorrow. I took a few steps back, kicking the door in at the latch. Marianne rushed into the room behind me, digging her fingers into one of my shoulders as she let out a quiet, short shriek of her own.

“James…Put the knife down,” I said, holding my hands up to try to show that I wasn’t a threat. There looked to be several cuts and stab wounds all over his body, and his boxers were soaked in his own blood. His hair looked matted to his head, and his eyes were wide, yet dull. Marianne edged over to where Tiffany stood with her back to the corner, near the door that connected our room to theirs.

“Let us in!” Will called, banging on their side of the door, and Marianne moved quickly to open it. “What the—What the fuck? James?”

“James isn’t in there right now, I don’t think,” I said quietly. “Put the knife down, and let’s talk about this.”

James set out towards me at a run, his feet pounding hard against the thin carpet of the motel room as he raised the knife in his hand. As soon as he was within arms reach, almost without thinking, I punched him as hard as I could, and he went down cold. “Ow,” I said, shaking my hand out as I made sure that he hadn’t nicked me.

Tiffany wept softly, and I turned to look at Will and Amy, before meeting Marianne’s eyes. “Is Tiff all right?”

“As she can be,” Marianne said with a nod. “She’s not physically hurt.”

I looked down at James’ unconscious form, kicking the knife away from his hand with the side of my boot. “Will, call 9-1-1.”

“Yeah,” he said, staring at James for a moment. “Shit…Yeah.”