October's Shattered Graves by Scott Donnelly - HTML preview

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

8:35 PM

Halloween night arrived, and the senseless themed killings had come to and end.  Charlotte Sheldon sat in an empty interrogation room, consumed by dread, plagued with regret and lost in confusion. 

Carter watched on the security monitors as she sat alone, dazed in a stare.  Her left leg bounced up and down rapidly under the table.  He focused on the blood on her shirt.  A call had come in from Libby Hatcher’s father about the murder of Doug Roberts. 

Carter shook his head.  It was just one more family that had to suffer from Charlotte’s madness.  Libby Hatcher was a wreck, and Kevin Maida kept pestering the police with questions – he was obviously unstable.  His best friend since middle school was dead.

Agent Holland walked up quietly behind Carter, startling him by touching his shoulder.

“God, you scared me.” Carter said.

“Sorry.  I just thought you’d like to know what we found out reading Charlotte’s latest work.” Holland said, waving a sheet of paper around.

“What do you have?”

“Well,” Holland referenced the paper, “Everything that has happened this month, from the missing corpse, to the muddy footprints, to the murders being connected to the high school play – it’s all in here.”

“Is she the one committing the murders in the book?”

“No.  It’s typical supernatural stuff, actually.  The play that Doug had written supposedly unleashes Kelly Rodgers from Hell.  She comes back to kill those involved in the production, then returns to her grave.  The final chapter was not complete though – obviously we didn’t give her that chance.”

“Thank God.”

“However…” Holland began.  Carter knew there had to be more.  “There is nothing in the book at all about the murders of Jack and Theresa McDowell.  It was a separate crime all together.  Deputy Dart and I were looking into it with Riley Little some more.”

“Okay…”

“We think it has something to do with the Blood Coven – that local myth you guys have around here.”

“Yeah, what about it?  It hasn’t been…” Carter stopped.  “Fifty years…”

“Next year will be fifty years.” Holland said.  Dart walked over with a bottle of water and joined the conversation:

“A plague of unprecedented selfish acts make way for the myth to return.  It’s proceeded by two warnings, and then the following year, the Blood Coven supposedly returns.”

“What are the warnings?” Carter asked.

“We’ll, I’ll have to let you see the book I got from the library about it.  It’s a really creepy myth.  It goes back to the 1800s – they say the season is responsible.”

“The season?”

“Like I said, it’s really weird stuff.  The season warns of the Lores’ return by exhausting the lives of the town’s elders, obviously Jack and Theresa in this case.  Then…” Dart was interrupted when he saw the Mayor.

Mayor Bernard Hopkins walked through the station and spotted Carter and Holland.  He pointed towards them, and pressed on – his security team following closely behind.

“Carter, I thought I suspended you.” Hopkins said, stopping inches from his face. 

“You did.  My Deputy called me – he thought I should be there when we brought her to justice.” Carter pointed at the monitors.  Hopkins saw Charlotte on the monitors, rocking back and forth.

“It’s hard to tell if she’s afraid, or just nuts.  She knows what she did, though.” Carter informed the Mayor.

“Ben,” Hopkins looked the Sheriff in the eye. “This was two years in a row that you were unable to prevent these killings.  I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

Carter felt like he was punched in the gut.  His mood dropped out from under him.

Hopkins bit his lip and nodded – he knew he’d be losing a good man, but he was an officer who had failed to deliver.

There were no more words spoken between them.  Mayor Hopkins turned around and left.  Ben Carter stood there, disorientated by his termination. 

“He’s got to be joking.” Deputy Dart said, standing by Carter’s side.  “Should I say something to him, Sheriff?”

“No.  No, it’s alright.”  Carter said.  “It’s Ben, now, Dart.  Ben Carter.”

“You know, Ben,” Agent Holland said, disgusted by the Mayor’s decision, “I can make a couple calls to some friends in Portland.  I know we’ve had our misunderstandings here this month, but I know a good cop when I see one.  Maybe you’re just cut out for bigger things, and not a small town Sheriff.”

“Thanks, Holland.  We’ll see.  I have a wedding to plan first.” Carter said, starting to walk away. 

“Ben, call me in the morning.  We’ll get breakfast or something and discuss that Blood Coven thing some more.” Dart called out.

Carter smiled, and left the station.

The ride home felt long.  Carter watched the bright streetlights pass by him one by one.  The trees were dead and dried leaves were scattered in yards and in the street, collecting in the gutters.  What would he tell Amber?  Was it a sign that their life together should be somewhere else?  Away from Stewart Hollow and its past?  He couldn’t leave just yet though.  He wanted to learn more about the McDowell killings.  And if what Holland and Dart explained was true, would there be more horror next year?  And if so, what exactly?

Carter pulled into his driveway and walked up to his front door, using the key remote to lock his car.  He opened the front door, unsure of what he was going to say to…

…Amber was lying on the floor in the living room, gushing blood as a tall man in a long black trench coat, wearing a pumpkin on his head, continuously plunged a silver blade into her body.  Carter was in shock – frozen by fear.  There was blood running down the walls, on the floor, covering the furniture, splattered on the ceiling, and dripping off the knife that the masked man now held out in front of him, facing Carter.  Carter focused his attention on the man and scrambled for his gun. 

The man charged Carter, forcing him against the wall, and the knife into his stomach.  The man ripped the knife out and began to jab it back into Carter, over and over.

Carter dropped to the floor, bleeding out all over the place.  He began to gurgle on his own blood – he couldn’t catch his breath.  The man stood over him and stabbed the knife down several more times, slicing open his legs, arms, chest and puncturing his stomach in multiple places.  The maniacal madman stood up and held the blood soaked knife out and hovered it over Carter.  Carter – barely conscious – watched each individual drop of blood from the knife fall and splash on his face.  He was fading fast. 

The man turned and slowly walked for the door.  Carter used every functioning muscle in his neck to look over at Amber.  Her corpse was ghastly.  She had been torn open. Carter turned his head back once more to the front door where the man stood, facing him.

“That was the final warning.”  The man spoke in a loud whisper.  “Thank you Sheriff.”

He then motioned to Carter, as if he were tipping his hat.  The man then walked outside, and into the quiet, dark, Halloween night, where he would retreat to his shack in the hills of Hollows End.