the gate was rusted, almost completely through. it was open... not like it could keep anybody out otherwise. the driveway went straight for a time, then turns around a bend, through some trees, and disappears from sight. as one follows it up the hill, it seems more like a tunnel with the way the trees form a canopy over the road. barely any sunlight gets through, and the undergrowth is threatening to overtake the path.
it's all paved, but some of it has broken away, and large potholes dot it's full length. it's been a while since anyone had kept it up.
upon reaching the house atop the hill, the scene becomes darker. clouds begin to cover the sky almost as if on cue and in the distance, a lightning bolt strikes a tree, setting it ablaze. the first few drops of the oncoming rain fall, but the storm is still at the horizon and moving slowly.
the house itself could have been a beautiful home at one time. it's hard to tell now, as weather and poor maintenence has taken it's toll. shutters were barely hanging on, and a couple lay at the base of the house. part of the covering for the large front porch had fallen. the concrete steps had give way on one side, and most of the windows had long been busted out by teenagers on 4-wheelers just after paying a visit to Big Don. the house itself was once a bright blue, with white trim, as evident from some paint still clinging to the weathertorn wood it covered.
at the side of the house, a large kennel. in it, a large dog. bloated and rotten, giving the top of the hill a putrid smell. the grass had grown up, and it started to look more like a forest that someone's yard.
in the northwest corner, where the front yard meets the treeline, a tireswing sways in the breeze. the tire looks new. beside it, a sand box, and beside that a swingset that has yet to be assembled. it's rusted now and probably not safe for any child.
light glowed from each window, though only faintly. the front door was a brilliantly deep red, and seemed to have a shine to it, even in the pale moonlight that was starting to get covered by the storm rolling in, and it was opened slightly allowing some of the light inside to shine through. it wasn't very bright, and seemed to dance. leading one to believe that the only light source was candles. it flickered and died down as a breeze swept through the house, then flared back up once it stopped.
the door had been pushed open by the wind, and a strong stench of death came rushing out. inside the house, one could faintly see a chair, which looked like it had someone sitting in it...
-------------------------------------------------------
*The car held only two people as it drove toward what may very possibly be the final destination of its occupants. They had been accompanied for much of the way, but this final step, they went alone. This was personal for Special Agents Claire McKay and Tim Harvey. For Tim, it had ruined his career with the FBI and could only lead to his death at the hands of a serial killer or spending the remainder of his life in federal prison, surrounded by those he had helped place there. For Claire, she had lost Tim, her mother, and now, quite possibly, Annie. One way or another, this was going to end soon, probably at the house that waited for them.
The trip was made in silence, no chitchat, no music, no ranting from a talk show host to cut through the thick blanket of silence that hung over the two since they entered the car early this afternoon and set off.
Stopping in front of the house, they got out of the car, greeted by the rank smell of a rotting dog corpse. Holding her breath, Claire drew her gun.. Tim carried no gun, but he was not unarmed. If necessary, Claire would shoot him herself rather than let him fuck with her again.
She could not help but notice the tire as it swung slowly and pendulously in the breeze. Odd that it would appear new when everything else was so dilapidated.
Her eyes were drawn from the tire to the door, the red door, as if Danny had washed it in the blood of the dead more times than Claire could count. The smell inside was worse than the dog corpse outside, and there appeared to be a body in a chair, but whether it was alive, Claire could not tell.*
Tim, you go first.
~Why me?~
I don't trust you, and I'd rather not have you behind me.
~Oh.~ *With no additional protest, Tim led the way into the house.*
------------------------------------------------------
the living room was lit with candles. some on the mantle above the fireplace, some on empty bookshelves, some on tables, some in the maple entertainment center. the body in the chair was obviously a victim of Danny. she was preserved, but her eyes were gone. there were scrape marks, suggesting that they had been taken.
her wrists were tied to the seat, and blood soaked it. the woman had been brought here and murdered in that spot. cause of death is yet undetermined, and is of no importance presently. here eyeless gaze fell on the entertainment center, as if watching television. there was one there, but it wasn't on.
the lightswitches were there, but when flipped, no lights came on. apparently nobody paid the bill...
there were stairs that led upstairs, some were missing. rotted away. it probably wouldn't be worth the risk to climb them.
the smell of death was strong in the house, but beneath it, one could smell something a little more inviting... a freshly cooked meal. coming from the next room...
a voice called to the two agents
"Come in, come in. You're just in time."
it was danny, and he, too, was in the next room.
-------------------------------------------------------
~He took her...~ *That was all Tim said before Danny greeted them, and he said nothing after. The room was fairly well-illuminated thanks to the multitude of candles everywhere. Claire could easily identify the blood-soaked carpeting and see the eyeless woman watching a television that had been turned off. What on Earth was Danny trying to represent here? Did it even matter? He'd shed his sanity with the death of his wife and unborn child. They were dealing with a remorseless animal who killed freely, and without a twinge of regret. In the call, Danny had invited Claire to 'feed the monster' and sure enough, a meal was waiting for them in the other room. Claire didn't really want to know what was on the menu, but she hadn't come this far to stop now. Tim had been watching her silently, and she gestured with her gun for him to lead the way into the kitchen. He sighed, tensed, but entered the kitchen, followed by Claire.*
We're here, Danny...*The feeling they both shared was that of a lamb being led to slaughter. Danny could easily wipe them both out, especially since they were being forced to go in blind. Claire hated surprises, more now than ever.*
----------------------------------------------------------
the kitchen was better lit than the living room. as lanterns were hung all around the wall. a table was set, and a fine feast was laid out on it. prime rib was the centerpiece, with mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and a host of other foods. the drink was a red wine, chilling. the table was set properly, as one would set for a proper dinner. danny was quite the cook. he had prepared all the meals when he and tim were roommates in college.
there were people, only one of which alive. the rest had been long dead, but as the woman in the living room, was well preserved. they were tied to their seats so as to not fall from them. all female, and all having Lucy carved into their forhead. in the corner, a bassinet.
the smell was overwhelming in here, almost completely hiding the aroma of the dinner. some of it (the dinner, that is) did manage to make it into the nasal cavities, though. it smelled good. great, even... but amidst all the... smell from the other guests... it wasn't quite as inviting. almost nausiating. if the stench itself weren't bad enough.
danny sat at the head of the table, dressed for the occasion. not nearly what one would expect at a time like this. he was actually dressed for a formal dinner. to his left sat his wife. a smile forever across her face, her lifeless eyes open, staring straight ahead.
danny stood to welcome his guests and gestured with his hands for them to be seated.
"Glad you could make it, Claire. Hey, Tim. Long time, no see. How's the FBI treatin' ya?"
he talked like one would expect a gracious host to speak to his guests.
----------------------------------------------------------
*Tim and Claire looked at each other, but said nothing. The smell of the food was stronger here, and in other circumstances would have been quite appetizing. Given the overwhelming smell of death though, it just served as an odd counterpoint. The image was a bit unsettling. Tim actually gasped when he saw Danny's wife sitting beside him. He'd met her before, thought she was really a good woman and perfect for Danny. The idea of actually seeing her, as the focus of Danny's psychotic break was unsettling, to say the least. Claire counted the Lucys seated around the table, there were six. Six corpses, seven if you count the original Lucy, Tim, Claire, and Danny. Must have had a lot of relatives..Once, this must have been quite the happy home.
Glancing over, she noticed Tim staring in shock, and hit him in the arm. When he turned back to face her, she gestured to the chairs, and they sat down.
~Hi Danny, Lucy.~
*Claire was going to be polite for now. Unlike Tim, she'd had occasion to talk to the semi-normal Danny.* We've been busy, Danny, but I bet you already knew that. I can see you've been pretty busy yourself.
-------------------------------------------------------
"I get by."
speaking as if he were earning a living.
"Where are my manors?"
he began to introduce his other "guests". starting with his wife, and moving around the table clockwise.
"This is my wife, Lucy. my friends Jill, Beth, Karen, Stacy, Gweneth, and Lisa."
tim would remember Lisa. she was a girl he (tim) had had a relationship with during their college days. she was hardly recognizable now, as her face had been peeled from her head.
"Everyone, this is Tim and Claire. Friends of mine from the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
he looked down at his wife.
"Claire, you remember Tim."
he gave a brief pause, as if to allow everyone to give their hellos."
"Annie will be up in a bit. She's finishing up downstairs. She's feeding my... pet..."
his voice got that demonic tone as he said the last word. a smile crept across his face. his gracious host mode was gone. possibly for good. he stood.
"I'll be back."
he turned and started toward a door in the back of the room...
--------------------------------------------------------
*Tim turned green when he saw what Danny had done to Lisa. She had been beautiful once, but that wasn't the only reason Tim liked her. She was also sweet, funny, and shared his taste in B-movies. Their relationship ended positively, though, and they had been emailing up until recently. He figured she'd just gotten busy, like he had. The smell and the shock proved to be too much for him, and he quickly stood up and vomited in the sink. Hands clenching the edge of the sink, he continued to dry heave as Claire sat, fingering the gun in her lap. She could only wonder if Annie was feeding whatever monster lived in the other room, or was literally its food. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she waited. All she could do was wait for an opening to take Danny down. Then, the nightmare would be over, and she could start again.
She even felt sorry for Tim as he stood there, the odor of vomit rising in the already putrid room. Danny had ruined too many lives already, and here it was going to stop.*
----------------------------------------------------------
through the door and down into the celler. danny left the door open. it was quiet for a few moments, then a banging... like wood on metal, and danny yelled.
"Shut the fuck up, you sorry sack of shit. Your time is here. Now. Get ready."
then another few moments of silence. then three gunshots and the muffled thud of a body falling on steel. and a muffled scream... the same that was left in the message on Claire's cell phone.
"You, too. Bitch."
three more shots.
then the sound of chains, and rusted metal hinges creaking. and of a body being drug across a floor carelessly.
then a loud machine sparked to life...
-------------------------------------------------------------
*What the fuck was she doing? She'd just let Danny shoot two more people at least! Whatever machine he was powering up in his basement, it wasn't a televisison set. It was something far more sinister. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed Tim's arm roughly, and pushed him ahead of her. He almost fell down the stairs before he caught himself against the rickety railing and headed down. Claire followed, waiting to see Annie's corpse and Danny hard at work on another maniacal plot.* What in the fuck are you doing, Danny?
*Her gaze swept the basement, gun following, as she saw Tim staring in shock at what was going on. There was no way out of this now. Maybe she should have held Lucy's corpse hostage. In his psychotic state, it might have worked.*
-----------------------------------------------------------
he machine was a large grinder. industrial size. in the corner sat a generator. that was what powered it. annie's corpse lay beside the machine. danny stood at the feeder, a man on his shoulder.
the man was very sickly, and presently very dead. his skin was pale and drawn. he was thin beyond thin. every muscle in his body had almost completely been digested for fuel, and he was barely more than bones with skin stretched over it. blood was pouring from his head, or what was left of it. he was unrecognizable, to say the least.
a Ruger .45 lay on the floor next to a cage. inside, a dog dish... but it was empty except for spiderwebs. there was feces and traces of urine.
"Takin' out the garbage, dipshit. What's it look like?"
danny never quit doing what he was doing as he spoke, and he didn't acknowledge the others were there except to speak. he dumped the body into the machine, and it sputtered and jerked, but quickly began grinding the man.
he knelt down to pick up annie's corpse, still not acknowledging the two FBI agents.
"Perfect bait..."
-------------------------------------------------
*Claire leveled her gun at Danny, keeping Tim between the two of them. To be honest she didn't trust either of them, and now was -not- the time to make mistakes. When she did speak, her voice was like ice.*
Danny, you killed several people, including my mom. You really didn't need any more bait to get me here. I bet you're pretty happy with yourself. You've either killed my team or turned them into criminals and taken away the only family I had left. Was that what you wanted, Danny? To turn me into you? *She cocked the gun, aiming it at his chest. It took all the willpower she had not to shoot the fucker right then. But, she'd let him answer her. If there was a why, she deserved to know. If there wasn't, then, she'd have to deal with that as well.*
*But, then something happened that neither Claire nor Danny was expecting.*
~You ruined my life, you son-of-a-bitch!~ *Then, Tim was charging Danny, the glint of a knife shining from the naked basement bulb. Claire just waited. Tim had as much right to get revenge as Claire did, being betrayed by someone who was once his best friend. However, Claire wasn't gonna let Danny draw a gun without shooting him.*
--------------------------------------------------
danny had half expected to be shot at by now, so tim's rush really didn't catch him off guard. being a fairly strong guy, due to lifting weights for the better part of his life to stay in shape, he threw annie's body at him while he was in mid-sprint.
danny didn't have a gun on him, it lay beside the cage he had kept the unidentified man in. it wasn't very hard to figure out who it was if someone had time to think. he did, however, still have a blade on him. he always had a knife of some kind.
quickly after throwing the body, he threw the knife at Claire and lept to duck on the other side of the machine.
--------------------------------------------------
~Fu~ *Annie's body slammed into Tim, and he got knocked back against the wall. There was a loud crack as his head hit the wall, and he collapsed unconscious beneath her corpse. Claire watched, and just barely saw the knife whizzing toward her. She dodged it, lodging into the wood beside her inches from her face.*
Nice, Danny...very nice. *She couldn't shoot him because she couldn't fucking see him. But, she did figure out who the man in the cage was. It dawned on her suddenly.* That's the guy, isn't it, Danny? The one who killed Lucy and your kid. He's been in that cage since the day he disappeared, hasn't he? How many times did he beg you to kill him, Danny? Or did he beg you to let him go? Why did you wait until now to kill him? It's not like you needed him for this little show...*This was going about as well as could be expected. She had to draw Danny out if she wanted another shot at him. She'd already wasted the easy ones.*
--------------------------------------------------
behind the machine sat a fully loaded S&W 9mm. danny had placed it there for just this occasion. he spoke, sounding quite proud.
"Oh, he begged. God how he begged. He cried for months to let him go. He said he'd offer a guilty plea and do his time. He tried to convince me to let the justice system do their job... but they don't know what he did. Their judgement would be clouded by what they believe the severity of the crime is. He wouldn't have gotten any more than 10 years, so I took it on myself.
You know how this shit works, Claire. You're one of 'em... or were..."
he laughed a little as he chambered a bullet.
----------------------------------------------------
Yeah, Danny, I know how this shit works. That's why I would have been happy to let Tim take you down. But, you're too smart for that, aren't you, Danny?
*She let the rest of his comment slide. Although she still wore the badge and held the resources of the FBI at her disposal, she felt less like an agent and more like a vigilante. More like Danny himself. That's why she had to stop it here and now. If it went on much further, she'd cross the line, and then there'd be no way back. The most frightening part was, that if Claire looked deep inside herself, that's what she wanted. It was the real reason why she hadn't swarmed the house with FBI agents like she should have. There was only a 100-1 chance that Annie had been alive. She could have shot him in the back as he went downstairs, but then it wouldn't have been enough. He'd be dead, true, but her thirst for vengeance would have gone unquenched and that darkness would stay inside her. Like a poison, it would have eaten her sanity, her humanity away until the last tenuous thread snapped and she began her own murderous spree. She took a deep breath to focus herself as she moved behind some junk to make a harder target. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly as seconds ticked by slower than ever before.* Why me, Danny? Why not just find out from Tim where I was and cap me in the back of the head? Why the elaborate show?
--------------------------------------------------
"Because it needs to be brought to the forfront. People like him, who killed innocents... who kill children..."
he paused. his voice broke somewhat as he forced his next sentence.
"They need a punishment to fit the crime. They need to pay. Now people will take notice."
with this brief break in happenings, the rank smell would fully hit a person, as their attention wouldn't be fully on their own survival. then smell of 3 year of human waste. of a musty basement unkept for as long, of all the bodies that had been in this basement, and of the blood that stained the floor.
if anyone were to take a quick evaluation of the setting, bones littered the floor. some broken, some fully in tact. decaying piles of flesh, presumably human, lay scattered here and there.
danny seemed immune to the grotesqueries, as he had lived with them for so long.
the barrel of danny's gun slipped from behind the machine that hid him, and a single shot rang out. it hit tim in the shoulder. then back into it's hiding place.
danny laughed heartily. to what, wasn't completely clear. just a random laughter.
----------------------------------------------------
*The smell struck Claire full in the face. Her hiding place was littered with Danny's earlier victims. Blood spattered the wall behind her like abstract art and bones and fetid chunks of humanity sat in a pile nearby. For a few moments, Claire had to fight back her own urge to vomit. She failed, decorating the human remains with the contents of her own stomach. Even emptying her guts didn't help the sick feeling she had as she was overdosing on adrenaline at the moment. She saw the barrel of Danny's gun as he shot at Tim, but she didn't have a clear shot. As angry as she was at Tim, she couldn't let Danny pepper him with bullets. Annie's corpse did shield a good portion of his body, but he could still get killed rather easily. Claire tried to steady herself as she moved further into the junk, trying to find a way to reach Danny from behind.*
But that's just it, Danny...your plan won't work. He paid, but in light of your other murders, it won't matter. I hope you enjoyed your torturing of the guy, Danny, because that's all that's gonna come out of it. People will just write it off as the act of a nutjob, a rabid animal, who just needed to be put down.
*Now it was Claire's turn to laugh. It was neither the time, nor the place, but she just couldn't help herself. Her fear, anxiety, and anger came spilling out as laughter.* You killed him Danny, but he still won! He beat you again! *Maybe this was what losing your mind felt like...*
-------------------------------------------------------
No, Claire, I won. For three years he suffered and screamed and begged. As he watched Lucy after Lucy pass through this basement, as he was made to hold my baby... he begged until he wasn't able."
he chuckled.
"The only real loser in this game... is you, Claire. Your friends are gone. Your mother is gone. Your mind... you lose, Claire. You have been denied the vengeance you seek. You have let Lucy down. You have let your mom down...
Game over."
those would be the last words he would speak. he shot himself in the face. the barrel of his pistol in his mouth and angled toward his brain. he wouldn't give Claire the satisfaction of seeing him die. this was his parting gift.
------------------------------------------------------
*She just sat there and listened as Danny continued his rant, her laughter slowly dying down to silence. His last two words made her blood run cold.*
~Game over.~
As she heard the gunshot, she rose to her feet, screaming for all she was worth.* NNNNNOOOO!!! *With anger burning behind her eyes, she walked over to where his corpse lay, his brains sliding down the wall as a pool of blood grew beneath his head. Even in death, his lips retained that sneer she could hear when he spoke.
In truth, she had succeeded. She swore that Danny Ward would die and that his killing spree would end. But, the truth didn't matter now. All that did matter was that Danny Ward had won again. He died on his own terms, in his own house, after destroying those who sought to stop him. Gripping her sidearm, Claire fired shot after useless shot into Danny Ward's torso. When she was left with the click, click, click of an empty gun, she began kicking the corpse over and over again. It didn't help. Danny was right, she'd failed each and every Lucy, Tim, Annie, her mom. As her anger drained away, she began to cry. First, silent tears running down her face, followed by sniffling, crying, and finally, racking sobs. She slid down the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees and just sobbing. It was the sound of her crying that Tim heard as he struggled to consciousness.*
~Claire? What happened?~ *His voice was weak, and he couldn't see very well around Annie's corpse. Wiping away the last of her tears, she shakily rose to her feet, walking over to where Tim lay.*
It's over, Tim. Danny's dead. *Now, Tim was confused. If that was true, why was Claire so upset? From his position on the floor, he couldn't see any injuries.*
~Are you hurt, Claire?~
Not physically, Tim. He shot himself in the face so I couldn't stop him. Annie got killed because I didn't shoot him upstairs. I'm a failure, Tim. Danny Ward won again. *All of Claire's confidence was gone. She may well prove to be Danny Ward's final victim. If she hadn't shot all her bullets into his corpse, she may well have shot herself in the head right then. Instead, she moved Annie's corpse off Tim and sat down beside him.*
~Claire, he's stopped. That's all that matters.~ *Although he doubted it would help, Tim covered her hand with his own and squeezed. They'd both been screwed by Danny, and would both pay for it.*
Thanks Tim, but we both know that isn't true. *The weight of that statement hung in the air as she opened her cell phone.* Yeah, it's Claire. Danny Ward has been terminated. Tim's been shot in the arm, and Annie's dead, along with several other victims. We're gonna need some serious cleanup in here.