The Devil’s Lantern

With Halloween right around the corner, I figured that an original short story would be a fitting post this week. Enjoy!

Tim stared absently at the ceiling. Barbara felt her heart break every time she looked at her son. His mind was long gone, a fractured smoothie reducing her little boy to a husk. His blue hospital gown was stained with red and brown from the lunch the nurse had tried to feed him a few minutes ago. The hospital was getting close to switching to intravenous nourishment because the force feeding just wasn’t working.

“Have you thought about our proposal?” the nurse asked, breaking Barbara from her reverie.

“It’s a no,” she flatly replied.

“Are you sure?” the nurse asked persistently. “We’re able to provide for Tim, but the extent of our care is limited. Sunset is the best facility we recommend for these–“

“I said no,” Barbara interrupted, an edge of irritation punctuating her words. “I’m not sending my only son off to some facility like a vegetable with no hope of recovery. The doctor said that there was a still chance the–“

“I’m sorry,” the nurse interrupted, a fake smile plastered on her otherwise annoyed face, “but Dr. Samson just said that because you would’ve broken down if you heard the truth. He ran the MRI results and they came back showing zero activity. Look, Tim’s condition isn’t improving. We’ve already talked to your ex-husband about moving Tim to Sunset and he’s on board. We’re not equipped to care for someone with Tim’s needs long-term. With all due respect, you need to reconsider, and I’d ask that you do that at home. We’ll give you a call tomorrow, and hopefully by then you’ll have changed your mind. And as much as I hate to say it, if you continue to refuse, well, it would be a shame if we had to get the courts involved and request a change of custody. You did split it 50/50 with your husband if I’m not mistaken.”

Barbara ground her teeth together as it finally sunk in. Her eyes looked the nurse up and down. How could she have missed something so obvious? The form fitting uniform that accentuated her curves, the blonde ponytail that bounced whenever she moved her head, the doe brown eyes that didn’t have an intelligent thought behind them, the hundreds of layers of makeup, it all made sense. “Oh I wouldn’t worry about the courts,” Barbara sneered as she grabbed her coat from the chair and made her way towards the door. “You can tell him that next time you pay him a nocturnal visit, Nurse Ratched!”

Sleeping with a nurse just to get custody. That’s a new low, even for him. Barbara fumed to herself as she drove home.

“I can’t believe daddy would do such a thing,” Stephanie’s voice chimed in from the backseat. “I knew he was a bad man, but that just makes me sad.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that Steph,” Barbara hastily apologized as she glanced backwards. She saw her young daughter sitting in her black car seat wearing her favorite red dress. “I know the separation’s been hard on us all, but I didn’t mean for you to hear all of that.”

“Is that true?” Stephanie asked.

Barbara didn’t answer. She kept driving in silence until she reached her apartment. She parked her car in her spot and got out. It was moments like this that made her grateful to live on the ground floor. Her legs numbly carried her to her door and she automatically turned the key. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaving her alone in her dark hovel. She walked forward, kicking cans and bottles to the side without a thought. She threw her purse and coat down on the table and walked back towards her room. She passed the closed doors leading to Stephanie’s room and Tim’s room. Barbara had scarcely collapsed on her bed when she heard the phone begin ringing from the other room. She swore to herself but couldn’t bring herself to get up. Her limbs felt heavy. Too heavy to move. The phone kept ringing. Finally it stopped.

“Hey Barbara,” a familiar voice echoed through the house. “It’s Hank. Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but we need to. I just got off the phone with the hospital. Barb I’m worried about you. I know that this last year has been hard on you, and I’m sorry. I wish I could be there, but you know I can’t. Please give me a call. I still love you.”

Barbara had fallen asleep before Hank had finished the first sentence in his message.

She had the same dream. The same nightmare. It was Halloween. There was a knock at the door. More trick-or-treaters. She told Hank that she would get it. She grabbed the candy bowl filled with Milky Ways and Hersheys and Skittles and M&Ms. She opened the door. It seemed heaver than usual. Her heart was in her throat when she saw the two policemen standing there. Their lips moved, but no words came out. She still knew what they said. Those awful words were burned into her psyche forever. Then they were gone. Another man stood on her porch. He wore a simple jack-o’-lantern mask, a black hoodie, and black sweatpants. He held a pumpkin. But it wasn’t a pumpkin. Barbara fell to her knees, sobbing. The thing that looked like a man said something to her. More words she’d never forget no matter how hard she tried to. When she looked up, she saw Hank smiling down at her. It was a cold smile. A cruel smile. There was nothing human behind those eyes.

When Barbara woke up she immediately ran to the toilet and threw up. Every time she closed her eyes, it was the same dream. A year had come and gone and the boogeyman still haunted her. Someone knocked at her door. Barbara groaned. She rose to her feet and made her way to the door. She pulled it back.

“Trick or treat!” the cacophony of children shouted.

Barbara slammed the door shut without a word. She leaned her back against it and fell down sobbing. So a year had finally passed. A year had finally passed since the worst night of her life, and nothing had gotten better. The door behind Barbara shuddered as someone else knocked. It was a powerful knock. More powerful than a child’s.

“Trick or treat,” a man and his child said as Barbara opened the door.

“You!” Barbara’s eyes went wide as she recognized the jack-o’-lantern mask. She leapt forward, grabbing the man’s neck with her long fingers. She pressed as hard as she could. “Is this how they felt? Is this what you did to them last year? How does it feel? Not so tough now, are you?”

“Daddy!” the little girl dressed as a ghost screamed before trying to hit Barbara. “Leave my daddy alone!”

The little punches hurt, but Barbara didn’t care. She had to rid the world of this subhuman filth. She had to avenge her pretty chickens. The next thing Barbara knew, she was lying on the ground. Something heavy was on her back. She tried to stand, but the weight kept her pinned to the ground. Something cold bit into her wrists. People were talking around her, but she couldn’t hear them. She tried to turn her head, trying desperately to find the man in the jack-o’-lantern mask. He was gone.

The police officers forcefully pulled Barbara to her feet and led her to their car. Hank was waiting inside already. She numbly felt him wrap his arms around her.

“Barb…” his voice was barely a whisper. Choked sobs interrupted him intermittently. “This is why you need to take your medications. I… Barb… There was nothing we could’ve done and you know that. Sometimes bad things happen to good people… to innocent people. I hate to say it, but there’s nothing else we could’ve done differently. It was a random crime of opportunity, and it just so happened that the monster targeted Stephanie and Tim. The police still got him. The sick freak left more than enough DNA behind to damn himself. And you know what, last I heard, the prisoners inside got him. Jumped him in the yard one day and broke every bone in his body before leaving him to bleed out and the guards turned a blind eye. Barb he’s gone. I… are you even listening?” Hank snapped his fingers twice but Barb just stared absently out the window. She had heard his words, but she hadn’t comprehended them. She stared blankly out the window, staring at the man wearing a jack-o’-lantern mask who stared back as the police car drove off into the night.