The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 39

Arthur appeared from out of the dense mist in the late night forest as if he were a fixture within the haze itself. He stood and meticulously studied the still, dark and quiet area with vigilant precision, not wanting to make any sudden moves. By then the rain had slowed to a whispering spray that felt soothing on his bald head. Arthur noticed that it was so dark that even his night eyes that were piercing the blackness were having a difficult time seeing straight. A sorrowful and echoing moan in the forest caught the man by surprise just then. It was so miserable and heavy that it caused Arthur's stomach to turn at that moment. But the moment the echo passed a blissful grin crossed his face.

"I hear you, poor children." He chuckled from his gut before plodding down a trail.

The man continued to walk until he came to a hut where light was flickering within. Before he could even come to the front door Arthur could hear what sounded like music coming from inside. More like humming. He then looked down at the doorstep to notice a flimsy, black skirt just lying about. He reached down, picked it up and sniffed at its fabric.

"Mama," he sneered so delightfully."

With extreme caution he neared the front door and simply pushed it open only to find both Senada and Cusha seated at the table humming the old tune, 'Take me to the water'. Arthur shut the door behind him and stood before the two women with a most curious glare on his face, as to say he was both pleased and surprised all at once.

"Is it be him?" Senada slid her hand across the table.

Cusha just looked up at the man for a moment and regretfully replied, "It be." NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

Arthur continued to stand and stare before he eventually said, "I do not know you." He pointed at Cusha. "But I do recall you." He then hissed at Senada. "Where have you been all dis time?"

"I be where I am." Senada answered with a quiver in her throat.

Arthur gawked all around the tiny hut which was lit up with candles from one corner to the other. "She not here, I see." He said.

Neither woman said a word. Arthur actually held his breath and looked up at the leaking ceiling before looking back at Cusha and gazing deep into her eyes.

"Ahhh...so we meet again." He smiled. "Now I know why you are here."

"Why are you this way?" Cusha asked.

"I am simply a victim of circumstance." Arthur patted his chest.

"You were never a good person." Senada gritted her teeth. "Do you remember dat over dere?" She then pointed to a corner.

Arthur turned and went over to pick up the rag doll that was lying on the floor in the same corner. He studied the smelly, filthy thing from front to back before looking back at Senada.

"Yes...I remember your boys now. Dey both went smoothly down my gullet."

"Is that how you felt about everyone you took?" Cusha asked. "Are you happy with what took place with Isaac? How you delighted in tormenting him?"

"Isaac was a first." Arthur remarked. "He was very unusual in de sense dat he was de first outsider to experience such grace."

"You call it grace, but it was hell for him."

"Twas hell because he did not know how to utilize such a blessing," he stated. "Had he kept on he would have become accustomed to—

Arthur then stopped speaking and stared hard at both women. He glanced all over the room some more before he began to back up.

"Where is she?" He softly questioned.

Still, neither woman would speak. Arthur then drew close to Cusha and stood above her in the most imposing manner possible.

Staring up at the man, Cusha said, "This is not how this has to end."

"She is near here...isn't she?"

"You should know that better than us. Or is you're shaking hand telling you something else?"

With both speed and rage, Arthur's fangs extended before he grabbed Cusha by the face and tore right into her flesh with the ferocity of an enraged animal on the hunt. He kept on eating and swallowing her insides so much that for a moment he forgot all about his own mission. The man then simply tossed her dead body to the floor before he turned and noticed Senada scaling her hands across the hut's walls in search of something.

With his bloody, foaming fangs dripping all over the floor the man walked up behind the old woman and rubbed his body against her's.

"Where is my knife?" Senada whimpered.

Arthur sniffed her hair and neck before whispering, "Both of your boys dwell in hell."

Senada all of the sudden vomited black ooze from out of her mouth before dropping to her knees. Arthur stood above her and looked down as if he were examining a pathetic creature.

"I do not feast on wounded animals." He growled. "I am, and always shall be your lord and master."

With only his left hand the man took Senada by the neck and twisted it, leaving her head dangling to the side before her entire body collapsed altogether. Arthur stood back and looked a bit longer at the dead woman before glancing back at Cusha's corpse. Then, one by one he blew out each and every candle until the hut was completely dark inside.

"Isaac, my dear friend," he spoke while heading for the door. "Where is your bride?"

Arthur walked out and quietly shut the door behind him. But just before he could take a step in the same direction he first came, a pungent aroma caught his senses. He looked down to see a glistening substance on the ground. It was blood; Thick, fresh blood that was layering the ground before him like oozing oil. Arthur followed the trail that led down to the pig pen where only one pig remained. The other two were all but gone.

The blood trail was still strong, so much that Arthur could hardly contain himself from wanting to devour the lone swine that was steadily sleeping in its pen. He opened his mouth and roared at the black sky before taking off down another blood-lined trail.

***

Arthur tracked the trail of blood all the way down to the pier; a file mile trek. The man was far from stupid or naïve, he knew full well that he was being led. But all he needed was Lynnette, the final piece to his all-important puzzle. Once the trail ended at the foot of the forest Arthur stopped and gazed down at the pier where numerous boats were docked. He then looked over at the sea and the rolling, black clouds where flashes of lighting were streaking to and fro. Arthur sniffed the air from left to right before he was able to pick up the scent all over again. He trampled out of the forest and down the embankment until his shoes hit the sand. He then scanned all seventeen small, docked boats before his nose began dragging him faster along the way.

Arthur paused right at Post #5 and said, "You are here." Arthur extended his fangs even further before looking up at the sky and growling, "I can smell you!"

Snarling as he plodded on, the man kept passing each boat before the scent that he had been following for miles became strong all over again. Arthur found himself standing at Post #9. The trail of blood was no more, but the aroma was still ever present in the thick air. With the most unfettered caution Arthur stepped up onto the plank of the white fishing boat and boarded. He skulked about on the top deck before taking the steps down below where he noticed a small cot in a corner, a shelf where cans of food were placed and a mini refrigerator resting right beside.

Arthur's eyes glowed in the darkness of the bottom deck like two small beams of light. The scent of blood in the bottom cabin was so fresh and pure that it seemed almost as if something or someone had been slaughtered inside. The man could hardly contain himself; he was a seething furnace of boiling hunger that would not subside. His entire body, from head to toe, was trembling to where just trying to restrain himself was completely outside of his own will. The man actually began to shiver from hunger spasms. Blood saturated the floor so much that maintaining a steady foothold was nearly impossible.

Arthur crept towards a small door until his hand touched the knob. The instant he twisted the knob and opened the door he immediately saw a silhouette ahead of him. He quickly growled at the figure only to notice that something was out of sorts. The silhouette was not normal looking. It was hanging from the ceiling...by a snout.

With confounded eyes the man slowly ventured towards the thing only to realize that it was a bleeding pig that was dangling by a rope. Arthur wanted to devour the remains, but with all of the blood surrounding him attempting to gather a single rational thought was like trying to hold water in his hands. His train of thought had become completely derailed.

"You shouldn't have come here." A voice whispered right behind him.

Arthur spun around only to see a darkened figure standing before him. He didn't even have a second to think before a sharp object was lifted in the air and thrust directly at him. But Arthur only proved to be too fast as he caught the blade in between his own hands.

"Ahh...you cunt," He shined his fangs.

The person on the other end of the blade would not speak; they only struggled back and forth against the powerful demon. It was right then that Arthur's growling grew even more beastly, as did his claws, while his face, which was stretching outwards, was gradually beginning to form what looked to be a snout.

"Here he is, Isaac!" The female's voices shrieked out loud.

Arthur spun around at that instant which ended up giving the individual on the other end a chance to snatch the large blade away from Arthur's shaking hands and use the weapon to slice his hairy neck with one swift blow. Arthur grabbed his profusely bleeding neck before savagely lunging at the person before him. But his fight was limited as he stumbled back and forth inside the tiny cabin.

From the hanging swine into the cabinets he crashed and gagged before he found the strength to climb his rapidly fading body up the stairs and onto the top deck. The man spat and spewed blood all over the already messy deck before reaching the side of the boat. He tried in such utter vain to roar, but his swiftly depleting oxygen would not allow for even a mere grunt as he bumped up against the side and toppled over and into the water.

Lynnette, who had covered her naked self in pig's blood from her head all the way down to her toes, came up top with Senada's butcher knife. She stood in the middle of the deck with sullen eyes for a moment before ultimately crashing to her knees.

"I killed an alligator tonight, mama." Her tongue listlessly dragged. "I killed an alligator tonight, mama. I killed an alligator tonight, mama."

Just then, at that same instant, faint rumbles of thunder began rolling through the sky as the water started shuffling and shifting up and down which in turn caused the other boats, including #9, to jostle about. But all Lynnette would do was kneel and keep on repeating over and over again the accolade that seemed to play repeatedly inside her own lethargic mind. She remained in the darkness of the swaying boat in all her bloody glory just staring at the blank spot where Arthur once stood.

After about ten minutes or so of agitated weather, everything ceased to a perfect standstill; almost too perfectly still for Lynnette's liking.