It was a cold winter’s night. In fact, it was a night, not very different from the kind we get on the east coast during the coldest of the winter months. Small specks of frost littered the floor, and the bark was curling off the trees, so brittle that if it were to come in contact with an appendage, be it human or beast, it would simply snap right off.
She walks across the desolate park, shivering beneath her mink coat, already unable to warm her body. She’s only been outside for five minutes, and already it seems that the doctor’s words were true – stay inside tonight…tonight’s no night for a gal who doesn’t want to be shot or frostbitten. Why do they call him the doctor anyways? Lord knows he’s not healing anyone behind those closed doors on the far side of the terrace.
It’s not too late. She could still turn around. He did, after all, warn her not to come this far. Not to wander so far from the safety of Ben’s house. But the trust problem was still there – did she believe him? The doctor’s notorious reputation as a pathological liar preceded him by miles. She heard about him when he was still in Vermont. Now, several states over, in her own little Waterville, he was finally here, and he was killing people. This should have been HER comfort zone. That abandoned skate shop is the exact place where she used to rent her skates to use on that very same pond just 50 feet to her left.
No matter. She’s made up her mind, and she needs to see if what the doctor said is true or not. She could see it now. The hut was barely larger than her garage, and it housed so many good memories. Yet as she neared the entrance, this eery sensation overcame her, starting in the tips of her fingers, and working its way up to the back of her neck. And just as every last one of her neck hairs were standing on end, just as she trained her ears on that front door, just as she focused her eyes on the little patch of light coming through that tiny ovular window she despised so, several things happened at the same instance.
First, all the lights in the park went out, which cause her to whip around in both shock and fear. Then, what drew her attention back to the shack was the blood curdling scream that followed. This scream was unlike anything she had ever heard before. It sounded like the scream a little girl ought to make when watching her mother get hit by a train, and she’s locked in the car, helpless. Also,at that very moment, the light coming through the little window seemed to grow bright white for the shortest amount of time. And then all was silent once more.
Katey stood frozen in her tracks. This isn’t normal behavior for Maine, she thought. The doctor was behind those doors, she just knew it. What was he doing though? The anxiety was killing her. She started walking. There comes the scream again. She must get there faster. To stop him. She starts jogging. Breaks out into a run, and then a full-out sprint. The screaming is becoming unendurable. What could possibly be happening behind those doors??
She finally reaches the stone basin outside the shack, and realizes going in armed would probably be a smart move. She stops for a fraction of a second, plunges her arm elbow deep into the ice-cold water and felt the curious sensation of a thousand metal toothpicks biting her arm. She wasted no time in grabbing the sharpest stone she could find, and attacked the front door. The door was open, and swung wide heartily. The air was warm on her skin, and extremely welcoming. The scene which she took in next however, was not. Katey knew that for long as she lived, she would never be able to shake that retched image which would now be ingrained on the back of her retina forever.