Devil’s Hour

Thunder rumbled in the gray distance as drops of icy rain sprinkled around Mario and Karla who crouched just outside the giant house. Great oak trees in their autumn garb shaded the mansion; the orange leaves stood in stark contrast to the ominous sky. A gravel drive wound through the trees to the giant porch flanked with colonial columns. There were no neighbors here for the mansion was so far up the mountain that snowplows never traveled the long dirt road to this chimera in the middle of the forest.

“Mario,” said Karla, “what are we doing here? You said we were going to get ice cream.”

“We’re getting the money here,” said Mario. He was about seventeen, Karla was eight. She had no clue what her uncle planned to do with this house. How could it possibly mean getting ice cream when all the ice cream was at Dairy Queen? Besides, this house didn’t look like an ice cream sort of place.

It was an ominous spectacle though it had sparkling white walls, rows and rows of windows, a princess tower with a balcony in one corner and a giant play set on the side. Now this was a different matter. It had jumbo slides, endless monkey bars, bridges, walkways, look outs—Karla gazed hungrily at this spectacle of delight.

“Are we going to play on the jungle gym?” she said.

“No.” Mario rolled his eyes. “I thought you wanted ice cream.”

“But what about the play set?”

“What about the play set?”

Karla frowned. Her uncle was not practical at all. “Do they have a dog?” The reservation was full of mutts; Karla hated every one of them.

“Of course not.” Mario jogged through the oak trees, his black backpack bouncing behind him. He didn’t go to the front door. Instead, he hurried around to the back, nearer the magnificent jungle gym. Karla groaned as she forced herself to pass by. The play set was bigger than the ones that she had seen at McDonald’s. What she would give to have one of those! She could see herself and her little friends running all over it.

Mario stopped at a window. “Hopefully they don’t have ADT. But they’d have a sign on a tree somewhere or on the gate if they did.” He glanced at his watch. “We have an hour before your mom starts freaking out.”

Karla paid no mind to his words. The play set was calling. “Can I play on it for a little while?”

Mario’s mouth tightened. “Fine, but you can’t tell your mom and dad about it or I’ll never bring you here again.”

“Yes!” Karla scrambled onto the giant play set, heart pumping with ecstasy. “Want to play with me?”

Mario shook his head as if she shouldn’t be a child and broke the window with a black jack from his bag. As he dusted the glass away with a brush, Karla clambered to the top of the highest slide and previewed this forbidden domain. The mountain marking the reservation border a couple miles away peeped out from the orange, yellow and green forest. Rainy mist surrounded its peak. A black crow darted across the tree tops, screeching as if it had found out that its mate had cheated on it. Looking up at the window of the princess tower, Karla espied a pale, pointed face gazing at her from behind a dark red curtain. Then it vanished. The smile wiped from the girl’s face.

“Mario,” Karla squeaked, “someone’s inside!”

“I’m not playing,” Mario snipped. “These guys left this morning. They’re ‘snowbirds,’ they’re gone ‘til next summer.” Though Mario had seen the inmates closing up their house for the winter, he had no clue if they had left for good. But he knew everything, he had busted into the best of houses these last few years. If only his niece hadn’t begged to come. Next time he would think of a better cover story than ice cream. “Get down here so we can get the money, er, for the ice cream.”

“But someone’s in the house.”

Mario decided to humor her. “Don’t worry, Karla, I know them. We’re friends.”

“Oh… okay.” Karla slid down and hurried to the window. “Why don’t you knock on the front door?”

Mario resisted the urge to slap her naïve face. “We’re playing a game. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

“But you’re allowed to break the glass?”

“They didn’t like this glass anyway.” He grinned at his own wit. “They wanted me to break it.”

“Oh.” Karla wasn’t sure, but her uncle was very old and wise.

Mario crawled inside first, leaving Karla to fend for herself. By the time she climbed inside and nearly splatted her face on the floor, Mario had gone to a different room. He was always leaving her behind. She had to learn to be faster for her uncle had things to do and places to go as all adults did.

Karla stood up, rubbing her knees. She was in a kitchen of pale marble floors, granite table tops and glass cupboards. Large windows, looking out on the brilliance of the autumn forest, let in gallons of light. If only the scent of apple pie hung in the air instead of vinegar. Which reminded her, her mom was making apple pie to go with the ice cream. Mario had better hurry up. Hot apple pie and cold ice cream were the best.

As Karla sauntered through the kitchen, she touched everything her little, grubby hands could reach. Her kitchen at home worked, but this place was a masterpiece of design. Her eyes landed on a massive silver fridge with drawers on it. Rich, white people always had delectable things in their fridges, things no one else could buy. Skipping to the fridge, she looked inside and grimaced. Slabs of raw steak swam in their own scarlet juices on dozens of white plates. The bitter odor of exposed blood turned her stomach and Karla shut the doors. She loved steak as well as the next meat eater, but that was just gross.

There were two ways out of the kitchen. One way led down a hall with white carpet further to the back of the house. The other led towards the front and was covered with a gauzy curtain. Karla could just make out an entrance way. The spectral image of the pale face crossed her mind, but she had always wanted to walk through a gauzy curtain like a diva. Besides, her designer heart woke within her and she wished to see the rest of the house.

Stepping through the curtain with all the majesty her sodden form could muster, she beheld a majestic stairway that split in two directions. Karla would have loved it, but rough wooden beams formed a dark rib cage over the ghostly pale ceiling. Not a picture or a color was to be seen on the ashen walls. It looked like they had just moved in and hadn’t unpacked yet. One would think all that beauty outside would be cause for superior inspiration.

In disgust, Karla continued through the entryway towards another filmy curtain. This led into the pallid living room which was in the same state of hideous shabby chic. The fireplace rose like a black staff to the towering ceiling. Its grate was of shiny gold; expensive fangs for a voracious maw. Suppose glowing eyes appeared in those gloomy depths? Karla struggled to wipe the awful thought from her mind. White couches had been arranged in a semi circle around the grate, leaving the outskirts of the living room bare.

Karla rubbed her arms as a chill tickled her spine. Despite the furniture, an emptiness lay on the quiet room, an emptiness full of invisible eyes. Padding through the couches, she discovered a luxurious, black throw peppered with small dots of white and gray. Pictures of sparse faces with white eye sockets littered the hideous thing.

“Mario,” Karla whispered. She didn’t care if they were playing a game, a feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be here lay on her like an icy weight. Which way had her uncle gone? She walked to the other side of the living room and realized there were stairs on the wall. It was guarded by another wall so anyone who walked in would never know they were there.

Karla headed up the hard marble steps. Her squeaking wet shoes threatened to slip on the cold, sharp edges. If she fell, Mario probably wouldn’t come help her. How would she get home if she broke herself?

At the top, the marble gave way to white carpet. One could fall face first on it and not get hurt. Doors lined a long corridor. Karla tried each one, but they were locked. One of them finally opened into a golden bathroom with a mural of a forest painted in Japanese style. Standing out like a blood clot was a scarlet sink that looked neither authentic nor classy. It glowed.

“Mario,” Karla called as she fled the bathroom, closed the door tight behind her. She ran down the hall, tried all the doors but none of them opened. She scurried up a small stair that twisted around the corner. Still no door would open. “Mario!” Her voice rose, but he did not answer. Suppose he had left her? She skidded to a stop. The best thing to do was to return to the kitchen.

Trying one more door just in case Mario was inside, she entered a pale chamber with ceiling tiles. Little pictures of birds and flowers stood out in high relief in each center. Light gleamed through a huge picture window framed by dark red curtains. It led onto a mini balcony, which Karla could not admire in her fearful state. A canopy of lace and silk shaded a massive four post bed while a jet black vanity lurked in one corner. The wide mirror reflected the room like a white eye in a midnight face.

Creepy chills tumbled across Karla’s skin. Going to the window and looking out, she spotted the top of the magnificent play set. She could see where she had stood when she had surveyed the land. Her hand slid over the velvety curtain.

I’m in its room, she thought. The realization didn’t strike like a hammer, but like a creeping fear that seeped into every aspect of her being. The heavy weight of an ominous presence pressed on her back. She spun around. Screaming at her own reflection in the large mirror, she fled from the room and down the hall. To her horror, she couldn’t find the way back to the kitchen.

Tears threatened to overpower her eight year old frame as she stumbled upon a staircase. She remembered that she had walked up one when she entered this hall. These had to be the steps that led back down. But as she descended, the walls closed around her, the light dimmed. A soft whimper escaped her lips, but she couldn’t crumple up here. To die in a place like this was more than she could bear. The first window Karla saw, she would break it and crawl free. At the bottom of the ominous steps stood a door stained with streaks of fresh blood and a scarlet hand print a little bigger than her own.

Karla stared in rising consternation. What was she going to do? She glanced back up the steps. As far as she was concerned, it made no difference whether she were here by the door or at the top of the stair. Only there might be a window she could break beyond this door.

“Please be locked,” she whispered in a tremulous voice and tried the golden latch. The door opened without a sound and an awful stench punched her nose. It was like the time a raw chicken breast had fallen between the fridge and the counter. Nobody had cleaned it up and it had poisoned the house with a nauseating odor.

Blessed daylight gleamed from a partially open door across the spacious basement, but Karla didn’t move. Blood stained the couches, slicked the hard floor and trickled down the kitchen walls. A partition holding a huge flat screen blocked off a part of the kitchen from whence disembodied light gleamed. If Karla wanted to get out, she would have to pass that unknown area where anything could be hiding.

The oppressive silence sent prickles across her skin. Did she dare go to the door? The pale light urged her to come. Just as she decided to make a break for it, something brushed against a wall. Karla froze, heart seized up. Did these people have a dog? Was it mean?

As her dark eyes roved across the dim room, a pale hand spattered with blood gripped the edge of the kitchen wall and a girl’s head poked out. She stared at Karla with sunken eyes from a pointed, scarlet face. Dark blood dripped from ragged, pale strands of long, unkempt hair. Karla’s eyes widened as one sensation passed through her: she was utterly alone. Little did she know what would come next. An ugly growl escaped those gory lips, the eyes rounded with animalistic blood lust.

Heart skipping a beat, Karla dashed back upstairs. Where was she going? Everything looked the same. What if she never found the way out, but wandered in this house forever with that thing living in the halls? As a panicked scream threatened to escape, she hit marble stairs and stumbled down into the foyer.

“Thank goodness.” Wiping the wet from her eyes, she darted into the kitchen. “Mario! Mario!” She looked around her. Maybe Mario had gone through the other hall? She glanced at the window. Maybe she should wait for him outside? Just as she decided this was the better choice, rough breathing sounded by the bilious curtain. Karla’s heart seized up. Her body couldn’t seem to turn around fast enough as she cast her eyes towards the foyer. A scarlet form stood behind the filmy curtain, staring at her.

Time seemed to stop. Karla backed towards the other hallway. What was this monster that looked like a little girl? A low growl issued from the figure behind the curtain, the time warp shattered. Screaming in terror, Karla fled. The specter dove through the flimsy barrier hands first, landing on all fours, and charged.

Karla raced through the house with the thing snapping on her heels. Its guttural snarls filled her ears, ricocheted off the walls. Rough teeth nipped at her pant leg, hard fingers grabbed at the back of her sweater. Karla started crying, her legs jellified, her breath stabbed her lungs. She shouted for her mother though she knew she was nowhere near.

A long corridor opened before her. Since the room at the end of that other hall had been open, Karla’s panicked brain expected this one to be open as well. Bypassing the other doors, she sprinted to the safe haven at the end. She pulled ahead of the beast in the hopes of survival. As she seized the handle, the monster let loose an ear rattling screech.

Her own scream lost in the abominable din, Karla twisted the handle and stumbled into the room. She slammed the door shut in the fiend’s gory visage. Its head slammed against the heavy wood; the door shuddered. Just as Karla pushed the lock into the handle it jiggled like loose change in a piggy bank.

Gasping for breath, Karla sunk onto the bed in wild sobs. Covering her mouth, she leaned over her knees and whimpered for her mother. Why had she come here? She could be at home eating apple pie, watching cartoons and playing with her friends. The desperate need to go home gripped her like a vice and soon overpowered every other emotion. She would get out of here!

Wiping her eyes, she forced her thoughts together, went to the window and climbed onto the balcony. Little did she realize that she had arrived at the same room as before, for only the princess tower had a balcony.

From there, she espied Mario sitting with his back to her at the top of the tallest slide. Red liquid trailed from the bottom of the play set to where he sat, but Karla only saw her uncle. Relief flooded her frame. He hadn’t left her behind! He would take care of this monster, he was bigger than it.

She cupped her hands to her mouth. “Mario!”

He didn’t even look at her.

Thinking he couldn’t hear her, Karla placed her shaking hands on the balcony’s side and looked for a way down. She would crawl onto the roof if there was none, but to her relief, she discovered a lattice beside the balcony. Crispy, brown leaves slept on a russet vine that crept up the white wood. Karla never considered falling as she began her descent.

Half way there, the door inside the room cracked and the awful pounding ceased. Karla’s heart went into her mouth. The thought passed more like a feeling through her: the door had been opened. As if drawn by magnets, Karla’s eyes traveled up the lattice to the balcony’s edge. The wild girl grimaced at her; a few drops of blood dripped from those grimacing lips onto Karla’s cheek. And then, it leaped over the side of the balcony and shot down as agile as a chimp.

Screaming, Karla’s grip slipped. She plummeted several feet before she could seize hold of the delicate wood. It broke beneath her momentum, tearing her palms and jamming splinters into her flesh. The vine shredded. Karla slammed the ground in a shower of brown leaves. Pain ripped through her frame as the breath was knocked from her body. In a haze, she watched the creature scurry down the lattice like a great four legged spider. It seemed so far away. But as Karla’s breath returned, the monster’s growls grew louder.

Grabbing hold of the lattice had slowed the girl’s fall enough so that she hadn’t broken anything. Struggling to her feet, Karla staggered for the play set. No sooner did she reach its twisted confines, the animalistic girl dropped to the ground. Whatever pain Karla felt vanished. She scrambled inside a tunnel; the monstrosity sprinted towards the play set.

It reached the tunnel, but instead of crawling inside, it leaped atop the equipment and jumped from one area to another until it landed on a tunnel with little windows. Karla was inside. Thrusting its hand into a window, it snatched at the girl’s frame, tangled its powerful fingers into her hair. It wrenched at her as if it would rip her head through the small opening. Screaming in terror and pain, Karla managed to turn her head and bite the translucent flesh until blood stained her teeth.

With a startled howl, the devil child jerked its member back. Karla sped into an enclosure with a lookout window. The fiend glared through the small holes in the ceiling. It barked and pounded as if it would break through. Still glaring at Karla, it darted to the edge of the play set. It occurred to the young girl, in a foggy way, that the thing planned to swing inside to join her. With all the strength and speed she could muster, Karla dashed up another tunnel, reaching Mario in the small area on top of the slide.

“Mario, Mario!” Karla grabbed his arm, but he slumped over, a great hole in his neck. Pieces of him had been gnawed on; his right arm was nothing but a bone. His blood dripped through the holes in the landing the way a saturated sponge releases its juices. Screaming in horror, Karla stumbled backward and bumped into the edge of the tunnel from whence she came. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew the monster had done it, and it had dragged his body to this highest point the way a leopard plants its kill in a tree.

As Karla cupped her shaking hands over her mouth, the rotting stench from the basement stung her nose, snarls issued from atop the tunnel. With a startled gasp, Karla spun around and spotted the humanoid beast perched above her.

It sprang. Karla threw up her arms and the savage fiend’s body pinned her against the edge of the rail. Its teeth gnashed at her face like a wild cur’s. Blood and foam flecked Karla’s cheeks. The putrid odor circled her head, killing the scent of dead, wet leaves and cold rain.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Karla’s cries drowned in panic stricken screams. With Mario’s body taking up most of the space on the landing, the bestial child’s movements were too cramped for its taste. Leaping onto the rail, it grasped its victim’s hair and wrenched her head back.

Its putrid maw thrust for Karla’s face, but the girl’s sense of self preservation rocketed through her frame; she would do what it took to survive. It was as if she stepped back and watched the ensuing events on a screen. Her mind stripped to its raw element: kill or be killed. Karla gouged her bitten fingernails into its eyes and squeezed. The creature howled in pain, blood gushed down its cheeks. As it jerked away from her, its balance faltered and Karla shoved it off the rail.

Screeching in more fury than fear, the demon plummeted for the ground below and smashed head first into the wood chips. CRACK! Its head rolled a perfect 360 and the body collapsed beside it. The bloody eye sockets stared at Karla as if still refusing to lose sight of her.

Karla gazed back, chest heaving. She had killed, but she didn’t see a human being laying down there. She could go home now, and that was all that mattered. As she moved to go down the slide, which had lost its magic, a sound touched the air. Her frazzled mind couldn’t register what the noise was, but her eyes roved towards the road in the oak trees. A splash of scarlet moved among the leaves. Ducking into the tunnel she watched from its small windows. A Durango pulled up to the house.

A man and woman, with hair as pale as the savage child’s, stepped from the car toting shopping bags and new appliances. They looked classy in their wool coats and stylish haircuts; the toast of Country Club society.

“It’s so wonderful having Joy as a guard dog,” said the woman. “We don’t have to pay for home security or anything.”

The man chuckled. “You said it.” He whistled as if calling a dog. “Joy! Joy! Come here girl!” They seemed puzzled. “Where is she?”

“I hope she didn’t run off again.” The woman adjusted a lamp box in her arm. “She’s probably in the basement. She likes eating down there.”

The man put the key in the lock. “You’re probably right.”

They went inside and Karla slid down the slide. The man gave a muffled whistle inside the house, but Karla knew he would receive no answer. What went on in the house did not matter to Karla, or how that monster girl came to be. The path to her house sequestered in pine trees swallowed her mind. There, mommy and apple pie waited for her. Sprinting past the Durango, she rushed towards the safe confines of the oak trees.

As she reached the tree line, the man’s blusterous voice bellowed “HEY!!”

Karla’s legs froze. She glanced back and saw him at the balcony staring at her. His face reddened and contorted in rage. Like a savage beast, he leaped from the balcony onto the lattice. Horror washed over Karla’s frame. He, too, was a devil! What would he do to her if he caught her? Forcing her legs to move, she tore for the woods. Out here, she knew where she was going. As she vanished among the autumn leaves, the man reached the ground and pursued.

Like a hunted deer, Karla dodged among the trees towards the mountain that marked the reservation line. No longer was it the border between Native and white, but a portal from this strange dimension to the real world. The man’s wild cries echoed behind her, gaining as his long legs propelled him over the wet ground. Karla glanced back, but she didn’t see him yet.

Finally the barbed wire fence separating her from the mountain cut across her path and she dove underneath. The barbs reached their rusted points for her soiled sweater, combing her grimy hair, but failed to keep a hold. Wet leaves dampened her front and stuck to her jeans. Wheezing for air, Karla scrambled into the trees. By the time the man reached the barbed fence, his quarry was nowhere to be seen. He glared at the mountain, a snarl cracking his bitten lips.

Howling at the stormy sky, he gnashed his teeth until they clipped his ragged lips. “Where are you?” He gripped the barbs, twisted his ruddy hands around them as if they were a child’s neck until blood streamed. The only things witnesses to his madness were the trees and a pair of frightened black eyes from behind an outcropping of rock. With one last screech to wake the dead, he stormed away until the forest swallowed him up and silenced his wails with orange leaves.

The End

Copyright © by Julia Benally 2017

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this work are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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“Devil’s Hour” was first published in The Wicked Library Podcast, season 7: Extra Wicked Fall.

If you want to listen to it, and then hear an interview with me after, you can go here: https://thewickedlibrary.com/729/