Chapter 10
Brenda never found out about the close encounter I had with whatever it was in the room that night. Who knows, she may have had a similar event happen to her. One that she kept from me for the same reason I kept mine from her.
The time had come (past time, you might say) for us to move. The week of our departure had one more meeting with the entity from the other side.
I remember it being a Monday when we heard Mrs. Cruthers phone ringing. I raced down the stairs and answered it just in time.
“Cruthers residence, Mark speaking,” I spouted trying to catch my breath.
The voice on the other end explained that our landlady had been admitted to the hospital from renal failure and possible stroke. The prognosis was grim. I spoke my thanks, ran upstairs to get Brenda and started off to the hospital.
Once there, we met her pastor, who had called us, and settled in beside her for a short visit. Since only two of us were allowed at one time, the pastor stayed in the waiting room. I wish he had stayed.
“Mrs. C?” Brenda reached for her hand to comfort her and look into her eyes. From the other side of the bed, I also grasped her hand in consolation whispering a prayer.
When I made contact with her, her eyelids popped open, eyes darting back and forth as if she were being chased.
“He’s here . . . Oh, God, help me. He’s here.” Her raspy voice spat out the words with phlegm following.
I gave Brenda a quick look shaking my head and spoke, “Who’s here, Mrs. C? It’s just us. Brenda and Mark. No one else is . . ..” She cut me off and stilled my pulse.
“Don’t let him hurt me.” Her grip on both of our hands had become more than uncomfortable . . . it hurt.
As if on queue, the room TV behind and above us in the corner came on. Our heads whipped around to it and back at each other in fright.
At first, there was static, but soon the stations began to cycle through at random. The round dial sat still, but the channels keep changing. I thought they were random until I noticed a pattern. More than a pattern. It was a message.
“I have waited. . .” static and change . . . “a long time for this moment,” static and change.
“I finally have all three of you together.” After the first three channel changes I began to hear more clearly. I could hear a coherent thread of words streaming to our ears.
“You two are my witnesses. I was tortured in life and I am tortured in death.” I still could feel the vise-like grip from the woman in the bed. I dared a look at her face to see the most horrific look of panic and fear I ever hope to see.
“I finally can repay her for all of the miserable things she did to me.” With that statement, Mrs. Cruthers body began to lurch up and down, back and forth, landing on the bed in one expulsion of air from her lungs. The maniacal beeping from the heart monitor was replaced with a steady solid tone announcing her death. The TV also stilled and the room filled with the sound of the monitor and our breathing.
Of course, we did not have a tough time saying goodbye to the old house. Mrs. Cruthers’ death made it easier to leave. We drove away without looking back.
jerederd 