Kassandra Joins her Dad in Death and There is No Escape

Chapter 29

This is a Young Adult story tackling issues of self-harm and suicide. It is intended for teen readers or older. If you want to read from the beginning, click over to chapter 1.

Kassandra’s face pressed against a cold concrete floor. Her hand slipped on a greasy oil stain, smearing the palm black. This was the garage in Seattle.

“Kassie?”

Her heart skipped. Dad! Kassandra wrapped her arms around him and squeezed until there was no energy left. The scent of sawdust and sweat—Dad’s smell—it was everywhere. 

Finally releasing the bear hug of death, the familiar fluttering sound caught her attention. The workbench light shone on the neatly arranged tools but shadows cloaked the corners of the garage. Something darted between the rafters. The nightingale. 

“I’m inside the card.” Kassandra trembled. “But how?” 

She stared at her hands. Empty. The card had been there only moments before. It must still be in the real world. Luke had it now. The one stashed in Mom’s phone was the only one left.

Dad laid a hand on her shoulder and she jumped. “What’s wrong?”

She willed her breathing to slow down. “I’m okay.”

“You shouldn’t have come back.”

A fist clenched tight in Kassandra’s chest. “What? Don’t you want me here?”

“This is not a good place. It’s not meant for someone like you.”

Something snapped. Anger bubbled to the surface. “You’re so right. What was I thinking? I should have let Luke take all the cards.”

Dad took a step back. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you or who this Luke guy is.” He walked over to the far end of the garage. “I do know this. You were wrong to come here.” Pressing a button caused the massive garage door to grumble to life, lifting off the ground. Pale afternoon light slanted in. Strange shadowy patterns, like zebra stripes, crisscrossed the concrete. As the door lifted higher, Kassandra saw their source. Instead of the driveway they’d had in Seattle, a meadow of tall grass extended right up to the edge of the garage. She stepped toward the opening.

“No!” Dad rushed forward and gripped her arm. “You don’t want to go out there.”

“Why?” 

The meadow extended for miles in every direction. The sky exploded with the oranges and reds of a setting sun. Kassandra shrugged off Dad and moved to where the concrete ended. A breeze ruffled her hair. She wanted to walk out there. Let the grass swish against her knees.

A black blob appeared along the horizon, darkening the sky. It looked like a storm cloud, except the edges coiled and twisted as things shifted. The wind changed, bringing the distant cry of birds.

Wee-tee-tee-tee-tweet. The nightingale in the garage hopped along the rafter above them.

Holes appeared in the cloud as tiny birds broke away from the mass. The sound of chirping and flapping grew louder. Dad hooked her arm and yanked Kassandra farther into the garage.

“What’s out there?”

“The end.” Dad stared out into the meadow. “You go out there and you’ll never come back.”

Something spooked the birds. They scattered as a giant face filled the sky. Kassandra jumped back, pulse shifting into overdrive. One gigantic eye peered through the garage door. The nightingale leapt from the rafters, zooming around the garage.

Then the eye retreated and Kassandra could see the whole head. It was Luke. Except giant-sized. 

“So this is where you’re hiding.” His voice sounded normal as if standing right in the room. “No one’s done that before.”

Then it clicked. Luke was staring into the Death card. The same way Kassandra had looked at Dad.

Luke waved his giant fingers. “How you doing in there? Cozy?”

“Sure, we’re just super.” She stared up at his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you some space. Now that I have Death, it’s only a matter of time before I figure out where you squirreled away the last one.”

Kassandra’s mind flashed to Mom and the phone. Luke didn’t know she had it. “What if you can’t find it?”

“I can wait.” He grinned. “It must be with a person and I don’t think you have many friends left.”

Kassandra pictured him holing up in Auntie Jo’s living room. Then the door opened and Mom stepped in. She’d have no clue what was waiting for her. Kassandra felt a pang of guilt. She shouldn’t have done this to Mom.

“Soon it won’t matter which card you scamper off to. They’ll all fall down. One by one.” He backed away, face becoming fuzzy and indistinct until vanishing into the orange sky. Only the meadow and a few scattered birds remained.

The garage door lurched as it descended. Dad stood at the button. “I’m guessing that’s the Luke guy, right? So where’s this final card?”

Kassandra blinked. She’d forgotten how quick Dad could be sometimes. “I hid it on Mom, but she doesn’t know it’s there.”

His eyebrows scrunched together, creating creases along his brow. “What will Luke do when he finds her?”

Kassandra’s mind flashed to Auntie Jo and the flames. Only now Auntie Jo swapped places and it was Mom who burned.

“Kassie, what’s going to happen?”

“He’ll send her here, into the Tarot deck.”

“No!” Dad slammed a fist against the garage door. The metal reverberated. “Louise can’t come here. Absolutely not.”

“Dad?” Kassandra reached out, but hesitated. 

He spun around, face now stone cold. “You have no idea what this place is.” Dad ran a hand along the garage door. “It’s my prison cell. I can never leave.”

He was wrong. If there was a way in, there had to be a way out. She scanned the garage, settling on the door leading into the house. “I’m getting you out!”

“Kassie.” Dad made a grab, but she slipped away, rushing toward the door. The handle turned easily. Not even locked. The door swung open to reveal only bare boards and drywall, like looking straight into the wall. If this was her old garage, then the living room had to be through here. Kassandra headed over to the workbench. The nightingale flew down to perch on one corner. It cocked its head and watched as she snagged a hammer off its peg.

“It won’t work.” Dad came up by her side. “I’ve tried every way to escape this place.”

“Well, it can’t hurt.”

Back at the door, she swung the hammer into the drywall. White dust exploded, coating her jeans. Kassandra yanked the hammer out and swung again. It excavated a chunk of drywall.

“You have to stop.”

“And leave you here?” She wiped at her lips, now slick with sweat. “Nuh uh.”

The next swing made a soft shunk sound as the hammer entered the drywall. Kassandra pulled it out and switched to the clawed end. She hacked in, gouging out massive chunks of the powdery stuff.  Sweat slid down her face. There has to be a way to punch through this.

With each successive blow, the clawed end dove deeper. But the drywall kept going. This stuff was supposed to be only a few inches thick, at most. It was ridiculous. Kassandra stepped back and examined the results—a white pit deep enough to stick her head in. 

“What’s wrong? Why can’t I get through?” She leaned over, lungs working to catch up with her muscles.

“There’s nowhere to go.”

“There has to be.” 

Kassandra stood up, readying herself for another blow. Dad kicked the door shut.

“What the heck are you doing?” 

He grabbed the handle and opened the door again. 

An involuntary shiver scampered along her skin. The hole was gone. Instead there stood the same solid white drywall. White powder speckled the concrete, the only evidence of her work.

She leaned against the wall, letting the hammer droop. “But there has to be a way out. There just has to.”

Dad shook his head. “This is death. There is no escape.”

Teeny Haunts: The Crows

I have always been attracted to birds, crows especially. Many of them flock around my house and in the mornings, I can see the crows “commenting” on the kids trudging to school. It’s like they are a bunch of gossiping people.

I am always polite to crows. I read about a study where scientists donned face masks (the plastic Halloween type) and one scientist was mean to the birds while the other was neutral. Well the crows didn’t the like mean one much, dive-bombing him constantly.

Here’s the catch. The scientists came back every year or so with the masks. Thirty years later, the crows still didn’t like the “mean-naked” figure. Despite the fact that the original crows who experienced this were long gone. So the crows have taught their children to recognize and attack people they don’t like.

Message: be nice to crows.

Happy haunting.

Tim Kane

Flames Engulf Auntie Jo

Chapter 28

This is a Young Adult story tackling issues of self-harm and suicide. It is intended for teen readers or older. If you want to read from the beginning, click over to chapter 1.

Flames slithered up Auntie Jo’s arms, setting the clothes ablaze. The fire burned different colors as it siphoned little bits of her away. 

Luke clasped one hand over the wound, blood drizzling down his shoulder. With the free hand, he fumbled through the deck, finally pulling out a card. Slapping it on the shoulder, blood gushed around the card, drenching the paper. But then everything reversed. The blood flowed back into the wound. When Luke removed the card, it was blank, the skin below the torn shirt healed. 

Kassandra seized Auntie Jo’s shoulder, but the searing heat forced her to jump back. The blouse turned to a dull gray ash, drained of color. Bits of it flaked to the floor. 

“Get away!” Auntie Jo screamed as the blaze charred her skin.

“No!” The flames pulsed with pure heat, keeping Kassandra at a distance. 

Luke stood up beside the shattered front door. “This didn’t have to happen.” The Wheel of Fortune card lay on the carpet, a miniature tornado of flame spinning out of it. Auntie Jo slumped to one knee as the fire enveloped her entire body. Kassandra couldn’t look away. If she blinked, Auntie Jo would disappear forever.

Luke stepped forward. “Please, give me the cards.” 

Kassandra felt tension build up inside, ready to burst.

He extended one hand. “I need your help.”

She pulled out the Death card. Was this what he wanted? Screw him. He could get it full force. She spun the card so the illustration faced Luke. Auntie Jo’s voice came to her, raspy and choked with ash. Kassandra squeezed her eyes shut. She had to focus on Auntie Jo’s pain. Use it to trigger the card.

Luke chuckled. She opened her eyes and saw the bastard grinning. 

Almost nothing remained of Auntie Jo, only a wispy charcoal outline. 

“Just stop this. Stop it now.” Kassandra jabbed the Death card forward as if it were a knife.

His smile faded and a look of concern settled across his features. “I’m sorry Kassandra, but you don’t understand. Death can’t capture a soul like the other cards. It holds all the world’s souls.” Luke pointed to the card. “How do you think you found your daddy? The Tarot deck showed him to you because it knew that’s who you wanted to see.”

Kassandra’s legs felt weak. Her thoughts spun back to the day in the Psychic Mind. All the cards had spilled onto the floor, yet only Death had landed face up. She looked down at the card with the picture of Dad, a perfect image. Was this another one of Luke’s tricks? Or were the cards messing with her head? She didn’t know anymore.

“Give them to me, Kassandra. Then all this can stop.”

The flames sputtered and died. Only a husk of Auntie Jo remained. 

Kassandra couldn’t stop the tears from coming. “Why are you doing this?” The card bent in her grip. 

“Tell me, what would you sacrifice to have your father back?”

She turned the card over and stared at it. Dad’s face was there, like always. Kassandra imagined his arms around her. Squeezing. That was where she wanted to be. Safe.

The room began to darken. 

Luke’s face pinched in a look of confusion. The murkiness swelled out, until the sofa and walls became only vague outlines. The card still appeared vivid and real—the only thing left with color.

Kassandra’s muscles quivered as though contracting all at once. Something pressed down from all sides, forcing her to gasp for breath. The sharp taste of copper bit into her tongue, like sucking on a mouthful of pennies. The room vanished. Luke. Auntie Jo. Everything. Only the card, glowing bright, existed. Then it too faded as blackness enveloped Kassandra.

Luke Attacks Using the Tarot Cards

Chapter 27

This is a Young Adult story tackling issues of self-harm and suicide. It is intended for teen readers or older. If you want to read from the beginning, click over to chapter 1.

Kassandra reached the front door of the house, ready to burst through. A dangerous thought crept into her brain. The Death card. It had slipped out somehow while she ran. It sat lost on the sidewalk.

Her fingers rushed for the pocket and brushed against the stiff paper. The card was still there. Safe. 

“That’s one.” 

She grabbed the handle and cracked open the door. A peek inside showed Mom’s iPhone charging on the counter. Kassandra cringed. Not Mom. Now there were two people to look after. A glance outside showed the Nissan parked in the drive. Somehow Kassandra had missed seeing it on the way up. 

She stepped in and eased the door shut. Dishes clinked in the kitchen. It had to be Auntie Jo. Mom never cleaned up. As Kassandra entered the kitchen, Auntie Jo spun around and nearly dropped a plate.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m in big trouble.”

“It’s Luke, isn’t it?” Auntie Jo set the dish on the rack. “I could smell danger on that boy.”

“Do you still have the card I gave you?”

“Right here.” She drew it out of her apron pocket. “You’re not thinking of giving it to him.”

“No.” Kassandra took the card. It showed the figure of The Magician outlined in a stained glass window. This was Luke’s card. His prison. The place he’d been desperate to escape from for years. Now he needed it back. 

She glanced around the kitchen. “He has the rest of the cards.”

“What!” 

“I messed up, okay? Now I’ve got to keep these other two safe.”

“Two?”

Kassandra pulled the Death card out. “I kept this one.” As she examined it, Dad turned to look. “You probably can’t see him, can you?” 

“See who?” Auntie Jo inspected the image. “It looks a little like…”

“Dad, I know.”

Auntie Jo jerked back and pointed. “Mercy, it just moved.”

“He’s in there.” Kassandra looked back at Dad. “I only wanted to get him out.”

Auntie Jo gave the card a skeptical look and then gripped Kassandra’s shoulder. “Honey, what happened to your dad is permanent. There is no coming back.”

Kassandra didn’t believe it. Not after what she’d seen. These cards could do anything. 

She glanced toward the front door, shoving Death back into her pocket. “Listen, Luke’s on his way here. Right now.” Kassandra held up The Magician card. “I need to find something to do with this.” Scanning the room, her gaze landed on Mom’s phone. The size was about right. She thumbed one corner of the pink rubber shell away. The card would slide right behind there and Mom wouldn’t know it was there.

“What are you doing?” 

“Mom never goes anywhere without this thing. It practically lives on her.” Kassandra peeled the other corner back and wiggled The Magician card in. The fit was snug. “As long as someone possesses a card, it won’t zap back.” She snapped the pink Juicy Couture shell into place. “If Mom stays out of the house, Luke won’t know where this card is.”

The only sign of the hidden card was a sliver peeking up into the hole for the camera. A sinking feeling filled Kassandra’s chest. What if Luke did find out? Then Mom would be in danger too. Maybe there was some other place to stash it.

She pulled the corner of the rubber shell away. 

“Kassandra?” Mom stood in the hallway, wearing a blue polo with a name tag pinned to the front. “Why aren’t you at school?” She walked straight up to the counter. “And what happened to that nice boy?”

Luke was anything but a nice boy.

Kassandra said the first thing that came to her mind. “I ditched school.”

It took a moment to register but then Mom’s shock switched to cold fury. “We’re going to have a serious conversation about this.” She breathed hard, trying to keep it under control. “But right now, young lady, you’re getting your ass to school.”

Kassandra stared down at the carpet. No point arguing. Not this time. If she tried to explain then Mom would want to stay. And that couldn’t happen. 

Mom snatched the phone out of Kassandra’s hands. “Jo, you’ll have to drive her. I’m going to be late as it is.” 

“Sure.” Auntie Jo wiped her hands on a towel. 

Mom wheeled around, a finger aimed at Kassandra’s face. “Don’t think I’m done with you, yet.” She leaned closer. “Is that clear?”

Kassandra clenched her hands, but nodded.

“Fine.” Mom pointed toward the driveway. “Now get in the car.”

Kassandra headed to the front door. Outside, she scanned the street for Luke. No sign yet, but he could be anywhere. She pulled open the passenger door to the Beetle, her knees bashing into the glovebox. Auntie Jo wouldn’t actually take her to school. Kassandra only needed to go through the motions.

Mom made a big deal of stomping out and unlocking the door to the Nissan. Starting up the car, she immediately slapped the phone to one ear. Probably complaining to her boyfriend about the rough treatment. At the end of the block, Kassandra spotted a figure, dressed in a white T shirt and blue jeans, marching down the sidewalk.

While the Nissan idled in the driveway, Mom protested on the phone loud enough for Kassandra to hear. Luke marched up the street, a scowl on his the face. Prickles of sweat sprang up along Kassandra’s skin. 

“Go.” She glanced at the Nissan. “Please!” 

Mom put the car in reverse and eased out of the drive, still complaining on the phone. Luke was halfway down the street when she finally gunned it, and screeched away.

Kassandra bolted into the house. “He’s coming.” She slammed the door and threw the deadbolt. 

Auntie Jo held a plastic baggie filled with some kind of red powder. She stepped up to the front door and sprinkled some along the threshold.

“What’s that?”

“Brick dust. It keeps your enemies from entering.”

“Will it work?”

Auntie Jo shrugged and handed over the baggie. “Maybe.” She headed over to the couch and picked up a shotgun. “If not, this sure will.”

“Jesus, when did you get that?”

“Never you mind. Now go and sprinkle more brick dust on all the window sills.”

Auntie Jo grabbed a shell from the box and slotted it into the gun.

Kassandra peered out the front window. Luke rounded the driveway. The bag slipped and struck the floor, puffing up a cloud of red dust. “He’s here.” She rushed back to the couch.

A polite knock came at the front door—as though it might be some kid selling candy bars. “Hellooo?” Luke crooned from the other side. “Anybody home?”

Auntie Jo pumped the shotgun—click clack—and aimed the weapon at the door.

The handle jiggled. “Awfully rude to lock me out.” 

“Stay behind me, honey.” Auntie Jo propped the gun against one shoulder. Seconds ticked by. In the quiet, Kassandra’s mind conjured up bizarre possibilities. Maybe he’d slide down the chimney like some demented Santa. A bead of sweat slithered along her spine. What was he doing out there?

Finally Kassandra heard a huff of air, like someone breathing out loudly. The clatter of hooves followed, ending in a crack as something heavy slammed the front door. The wood snapped inward, revealing a sliver of daylight and what looked like a horse. Luke had used one of the cards. The horse battered the door again, splintering the wood and knocking one hinge out of the wall. Then the massive stallion reared up, bringing its front hooves down on the wood. 

Craaack!

The second hinge popped out. What was left of the door crashed down. The horse whinnied before trotting out into the driveway. Luke stepped up to the threshold.

“You locked the door? Really?”

He glanced down at the brick dust laid along the carpet. “I have to say, I’m not really familiar with this one.” Luke stepped over the red dust and into the house. “Is it supposed to do something?”

Auntie Jo fixed the barrel of the shotgun at Luke’s chest. “You stay away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“I’m warning you.”

Luke tossed up one of his grins. “How about this instead?” He pulled a single card out of the Tarot deck.

BLAM!

The shell exploded into Luke’s shoulder. He staggered back, crumpling against the wall. His eyes went glossy. Blood spurted from the wound, spattering everything around it. It mixed with the brick dust on the floor, creating a crimson stew.

Auntie Jo stepped closer, pumping the shotgun to discharge the empty shell.

“Don’t kill him!” Kassandra stepped forward. Why had she said that? 

Luke smiled with red coated teeth. He looked up, not at Auntie Jo, but at Kassandra. Comprehension filled his eyes. “I’m going to remember this.”

“No you won’t.” Auntie Jo aimed the shotgun at his head.

“No!” Kassandra reached for the gun.

Luke thrust a single card forward and something in the illustration shifted. Auntie Jo’s eyes went wide.

Kassandra edged closer, trying to make out the picture. It showed an angel standing on a churning sea, a giant circular blank spot took up the center of the card. The Wheel of Fortune. The one Auntie Jo said stood for her.

Fire shot out, curling around Auntie Jo like a thousand tentacles. The flickers of orange and red flame morphed into a deep purple as the color faded from Auntie Jo’s apron.

It was sucking the life out of her, just like with Lindsay.

Teeny Haunts: The Demon Car of Proctor Road

I had no idea I lived so close to such a haunted road. Apparently the dirt road that connects my city to Jamul has all sorts of haunts associated with it — a ghost lady, a goat man and of course a demon car.

Digging into this legend, I can’t help but wonder if it was inspired by the 1977 film The Car, where James Brolin has to defeat, you guessed it, a demon possessed car. The movie has a few problems, but the car design is exceptional and I used it as a basis for the illustration of the Proctor Valley version.

The mouth that opens up at the end was inspired by the cartoon Regular Show, specifically the episode Ello Gov’nor. This is where a British taxi chases Rigby down, but it’s grill opens up into a mouth.

There are also elements of Stephen King wrapped up in the Proctor Valley legend. Not so much Christine, but rather Salem’s Lot. The movie did the best they could, but I recall in the story, King describes the car in much the same way it was depicted in the 1977 Car movie.

I haven’t yet experienced the Demon Car myself. It’s supposed to happen to travelers who embark on the dirt road at night. Once, I did travel down the bumpy path at sunset and behind me loomed a pair of headlights. They never sped up to my number.

All the same, I pushed my car as fast as it would go. Just in case.

Stay haunted…

Tim Kane