Amy Cross - The Purchase

He hesitated for a moment, before stepping back and trying to work out what could have happened. He didn’t want to panic just yet, and after a few seconds he realized that – for whatever reason – Chandler and Doctor Levant must have headed out to the forest. That wasn’t entirely unlikely, since they might have discovered something nearby that shed light on the site as a whole, although as he looked toward the forest he couldn’t help but note that the entire area seemed eerily quiet.

Stepping back around to the front of the cabin, he reached into his pocket for his phone. He’d tried a few times to call Chandler that morning, but there was only partial, patchy signal at the site. As he brought her number up again, however, he noticed what looked like a freshly-disturbed rectangle of mud on the ground just a few feet away, with a shovel having been tossed aside.

Concerned, he took a step forward.

Suddenly he heard a bumping sound over his shoulder, and as he turned he felt a rush of relief as he saw Chandler staring at him from the side of the cabin.

“Hey,” he said, slipping his phone away and taking a step toward her. “I was starting to get a little creeped out there for a moment. What’ve you been up to?”

He waited, but Chandler simply watched him. There was a curious expression on her face, and her brow was slightly furrowed. Something seemed different about her. She usually stood proud and tall, but now she was a little hunched and her head was tilted slightly to one side. Her arms were hanging loose, too, whereas she usually kept them tucked in her pockets.

“I saw Levant’s car,” he continued. “I didn’t know he was going to be here.”

Again he waited, and again Chandler didn’t reply.

He took another step toward her.

“So what’s the deal with those bodies?” he asked. “I noticed some of the stuff’s damaged in the cabin. Did something happen during the night?”

He waited.

She stared him.

He was about to ask her again, but then he noticed a patch of mud smeared against one side of her mouth. In fact, he was starting to realize that she looked quite disheveled, with a few scratches on her face. Her hair was unkempt, too, and there was some tears on her shirt.

“What’s wrong?” Clark asked, as his concern grew. “Catherine?” He reached out and put a hand on the side of her arm. “Tell me what’s happening?”

She stared for a moment longer, and then she looked past him.

“Catherine?”

He watched the same expression on her face, and then he turned to try to see what she was staring at. For a moment, however, all he saw was the clearing and – in the distance – the tree-line.

“I don’t get it,” he said cautiously. “What is it? Is Doctor Levant here?”

“Your clothes,” Chandler said behind him, her voice sounding throaty and scratched. “They’re funny looking.”

“Huh?”

He began to turn to her.

Suddenly Chandler grabbed his throat and pulled him back, and then she forced him down onto his knees. He tried to get free, but she already had a hand on his face and she quickly slipped a gold coin into his mouth before clamping her her hand tight.

“Now you’re going to get a new body too,” she said with a grin, as Clark tried but failed to get free. He was struggling to breathe, and finally the coin almost choked him as it slipped down his throat. “Welcome back, darling,” Chandler continued, watching as the fear in Clark’s eyes suddenly gave way to a shocked, glassy expression. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.”

149 years ago

The door to the mortuary swung open, and Richard Garrett stepped through into the cold, dank room. Immediately, his gaze settled upon the two bodies that lay on a table over by the room’s far end.

“You’ll be Mr. Garrett, then,” the mortician, Andrew Bold, said, turning from the bench where he was preparing some fresh solutions. A young boy worked next to him. “It’s about time you showed up.”

“The paperwork took longer than it should have,” Garrett replied, making his way over to the table and holding up the document from the Sheriff’s office. “Never have I encountered such officious fools as I find in some of these small towns. Still, at least now everything’s signed and—”

“I don’t doubt that for one moment,” Bold said, interrupting him, before glancing with a nervous expression toward the two bodies. “Everyone wants rid of them. The fact that you’re willing to pay is just a bonus.”

Garrett stepped around the table and looked down at the two corpses. As he’d been informed, one was male and one was female. They’d been laid out naked, and the rope marks were clear around their necks. For a moment, Garrett could only stare at the bodies, and deep down he could already sense that they were of the type that he required. He’d been performing this service for so long, ever since the war had ended, that his gut reacted every time he came close to such creatures.

“I suppose you know the stories,” Bold said.

Garrett didn’t reply.

“I’m not a superstitious man myself,” Bold continued, “but ever since these two criminals were executed, it’s like they’ve been… calling attention to themselves. We even buried them, a few days back, but then things got worse and they were dug up. Something’s still not right, though. Can’t you feel it in the air?”

Still, Garrett said nothing. Instead he was staring at the corpses with a hint of wonder in his eyes.

“I don’t like what you do,” Bold said firmly, “but I understand it. So get on with it.”

“Leave the room,” Garrett murmured finally, still staring at the bodies.

“I think—”

“I told you to leave the room.” Garrett’s gaze was still fixed on the two corpses. “My horse and cart are waiting at the rear of the building. I shall go out that way, so as to avoid being watched by the townsfolk. For the same reason, I shall leave town along the old mining road. I do not like to make a spectacle of what I do.”

“And you’ll take them far away from here?” Bold asked. “We have your word on that?”

“You do indeed,” Garrett replied. “You need not worry. Whatever effect these two souls have had on your town, it is over now. I know what to do with them.”

“And what’s that?” Bold asked. “If I might ask, that is.”

“It is none of your concern.”

“They were murderous in life,” Bold replied. “I don’t know how many they killed, but it must have been at least ten. How they could claim to be in love, I’ll never—”

“I asked you some time ago to leave the room,” Garrett said, cutting him off, still staring at the bodies. “I note that you have not yet done so.”

Bold hesitated, before turning and walked to the door. At the same time, the young boy – no more than eight or nine years old – began to follow.

“The child stays,” Garrett said, turning to look at them.

Bold stopped, and he seemed unsure of himself for a moment before, finally, turning to the boy.

“You are to stay here and assist Mr. Garrett, Peter,” he explained. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Aren’t I expected back at the orphanage?” Peter asked.

“No, not at the moment.” Bold turned to Garrett. “There are some parts of this arrangement,” he continued, “that I find harder to stomach than others.”

“That is none of my concern,” Garrett told him. “I am performing a great service for this town. I would like you to remember that, should you begin to worry about how I conduct myself. What matters is that Lordstown is able to get back to its old ways. Once I am gone, that shall surely be the case.”