Rob Blackwell - A Soul To Steal

And Holober’s place remained an excellent hiding spot. No other houses for miles, and the creaky floorboards would easily tell him if anyone else was around. It was like a built-in alarm. Kyle had kept all his trophies there. The news clippings, the stack of post-it notes, mementos.

But now he wished he hadn’t. Kyle had never been afraid of the house before. After all, he was the thing that other people should fear. He was what went bump in the night.

Kyle got out of the car and checked his watch. 11:45 p.m.

But he was growing nervous. Far away, he thought he could hear a sound and it was getting louder.

“Damn,” he said, and climbed the steps.

He would be safe in here. He opened the door and went through.

The air in the place was stale and had a rotten odor. The house still had electricity, thanks to a generator Kyle had maintained in good order.

Kyle flipped on the light. But nothing happened.

“Damn,” he said again, and the sound of his own voice made him jumpy. He must not have charged the thing, he thought.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, which they did only slightly, and moved forward. He banged his leg into the couch as he tried to make his way to his bedroom.

He crossed the living room and heard the floorboards groan beneath him. He stopped a minute and listened for any other sounds. Kyle shuddered.

Outside, the sound was unmistakable and getting closer. The pounding of horse hooves. How the hell had it followed him? But, really, was that the most surprising part of the night? He doubted it.

Kyle knew he did not have much time.

He went into the bedroom and pulled a duffel bag out of the closet. He could barely see, but he knew where most of the things he needed were. Just the newspaper clips and mementos and he would be on his way. He checked his watch again. 11:48 p.m. In 13 minutes, he would not need to worry about this anymore.

He reached onto the bed for some of his papers. He couldn’t see them, but he had prepared them just this morning. They were a new identity for himself, so he could move this show to some other town and start over.

But instead his hand closed around a single small piece of paper.

In a panic, he reached all over the bed. But all that remained was a note.

He picked it up-a small yellow post-it note with writing on it. He pulled it close to his face so he could read it.

“You are not alone, Kyle,” it read.

Kyle dropped the note in shock. He wheeled around and faced the living room.

“Who’s here?” he yelled.

But no sound came back. Just silence.

Kyle bent down to the duffel bag and pulled out his emergency back-up plan. A gun.

“I hate using this thing, I really do,” he said out loud. “But don’t think that I don’t know how. I was in the service for a long time, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” a voice in the darkness came back. It sounded like a woman’s, or was it a man’s voice as well?

“Quinn? Is that you?” Kyle called out, and held the gun in front of him.

“He’s here, in a manner of speaking,” the voice came back. “But he is also outside, getting closer. And when he gets here…”

“Fuck you,” Kyle said. “Fuck you and your parlor games.”

He held the gun in front of him and walked out of the bedroom door. He left the duffel bag behind. Let the cops find him. He just needed to get out of here.

“Come on, Kyle, you were always the one who liked parlor games,” the voice said. “You played one with me, remember?”

“Who are you?” Kyle asked, but he knew. He had known from the moment he found the note on the bed. It made no sense. How could she have known where to come?

“See you real soon, remember?” Kate’s voice came back.

Kyle tried to tell where the voice was coming from. He tried to look for her, but he couldn’t see.

Outside, he could hear the sound of the horse getting louder.

“Look, Trina,” Kyle said. “I’ll cut you a deal. You call all this shit off and I will go away. I’ll leave you guys alone-I will be out of your hair forever.”

Nervously, Kyle lit the light on his watch. It was 11:52 p.m.

“I don’t think so, Kyle,” Kate said.

Kyle thought now he could hear where the voice was coming from. He turned to the right and fired the gun. The blast was nearly deafening in the small house. He heard the bullet slam into the wood grain.

“Nice try,” Kate said.

“You see? There is still something left in me,” Kyle said. “Let me go and I will just walk out of here.”

“Oh, you are free to leave, Kyle,” Kate said. “But I think you will find a friend waiting for you outside.”

The sound of horse hooves had stopped. It meant only one thing, Kyle thought.

“He’s here,” Kate said.

His knees felt weak and he noticed his hands were shaking.

“He can’t get me in here,” Kyle said.

And then he heard a large crashing noise from below. The whole house shook.

“Think again,” Kate replied. “Actually, he could walk up the steps if he wanted to. But we have a different idea.”

The large crash came again and again. The whole house felt like it was breaking apart.

“Not very stable here, is it?” Kate asked.

“If this house falls in, it will hurt you too,” Kyle said.

“I doubt it,” she replied. “I think I’m beyond that kind of thing.”

Kyle looked at his watch again. 11:54 p.m.

“I’m not going to let the clock run out here, don’t worry,” Kate said.

“Then come and get me,” Kyle said. “I’m not moving.”

A large crash happened again and Kyle felt the floor shake. It was going to fall in.

But then a figure moved across the floor. He could not believe he hadn’t seen her before. She grabbed the gun out of his hand and punched Kyle in the face.

He stumbled back and heard the floorboards creak as he landed. There was another crash from below, and the house now tilted on its stilts. Furniture started sliding. Kyle felt the coffee table hit him in the leg.

Before he could move, something hit him in the stomach. Kyle went sprawling across the floor.

“Looks like the house of cards is beginning to collapse, Kyle,” Kate said.

Kyle tried to get up. He got to his knees and was hit in the head from behind, falling forward again.

A voice was in his ear.

“I could kill you, you know,” a female voice whispered. “I would even enjoy it, as you did. But I think I would rather see you run.”

He turned over and tried to throw the figure back.

But when he looked into the face above him, it was not Kate that he saw. It was her mother.

“What’s the matter, Kyle?” Sarah asked him. “Seen a ghost?”

With all his might, he tried to push her backwards and get up. She easily dodged him, but stepped back.

“This is not real,” he said.

“I could have taken another form,” Sarah said to him. “I could have been your worst nightmare. But this one felt the most fitting.”

Kyle stumbled back and looked at her. He blinked hard again.

“This isn’t happening,” he said again, and nearly lost his balance as another crash caused the floor to tilt even further. “What are you?”

Sarah crossed the floor and leaned into Kyle’s face before he could block her.

She whispered in his ear.

“We are the Lords of Halloween, Kyle,” she said, and pushed Kyle through the front door. “The real Lords of Halloween.”

Kyle landed on the front stoop and felt intense pain in his back. His arms flailing, Kyle tried to pick himself up. He did not look back into the house. Instead, he tried to make it down the stairs, which were coming apart even as he walked down them.

He stumbled off them and tried to run to his car. Even from here, he could tell that the tires were slashed. Cut by a sword.