Evil Entity 5m6l4m

EVIL ENTITY JESSICA BLACK

Table of Contents

Title Page

Evil Entity

Epilogue

Sunlight raked its final fingers of light across the porch of an old colonial house. Josephine looked over her shoulder to the cab driving away and hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder. Stretching out her index finger, she pressed the doorbell. Chimes rang through the house. A cheery older woman wearing an apron over a light pink dress opened the door. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at the young woman in front of her. Dusting flour off of her apron, the woman held out her hands and clasped the young woman’s, “Hello! Welcome to Hanover House! I’m Libby.” “Josephine. You can call me Jo.” “It is lovely to have you here, Jo.” A mopey bloodhound nosed past her and sniffed at Jo. “Oh, don’t mind old Rupert there. He keeps everyone honest.” Libby tousled his ears lovingly. “Back in his day, he was one of the top drug dogs in the county. You don’t have any substances on you, do you, dear? No drugs, alcohol? Anything like that?” Jo glanced nervously from the dog to the woman, “No.” “Wonderful! Here, let’s get you off the porch and up to your room so you can get settled. We eat meals together in the dining room. Breakfast is at seven. Lunch is at one. Dinner is at seven. Better for digestion that way. Everyone here has dealt with some sort of addiction, so don’t you worry about that. You have a good system here.” Libby led her up to the second floor. Wooden stairs with a white handle creaked under their feet. She paused with her hand on the railing, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what was your addiction?” Her voice was soft and caring. “Alcohol.” Jo looked at her feet. She still had a hard time looking people in the eye. “I’ve been clean for a few weeks, but it’s hard when you hang around the same people. I needed a change of scenery.” “Well, that is exactly what Hanover House is for. Think of this as your halfway step. Full and empty livers!” Libby continued up the steps. They walked past a room with the door open. A dark-haired girl sat on a bed. She was painting her nails black. A pair of headphones straddled her head. She glanced up, but didn’t speak. The hallway had warped wooden floors and white

walls. Encouraging needlepoint sayings hung on the walls. Jo clutched at her backpack. Behind them, Rupert’s nails clicked across the floor as he followed them. “Here’s your room.” Libby pushed open a door a few rooms down from the dark-haired girl’s. “Thanks.” “Make yourself at home. I have to go finish making dinner. I’m so glad to have you here. If you need anything, just ask.” Beaming out one final smile, Libby made her way back downstairs. Jo walked into the room. A metal frame bed was against the wall. Patchwork quilts draped themselves over the mattress and the end of the bed. Jo dropped her backpack on the floor and paced the length of the room. A window looked out on a garden that sprawled through the back yard. She lifted the lace curtains that veiled the glass. Roses blossomed along a path, and a small pond was nestled under a few trees. Spanish moss crept down from their boughs. Jo let the lace curtains fall back into place. An empty closet held only a few bare hangers. “No place like home.” She shuffled her sneakers back to the bed and sighed. It squeaked as she put her weight on it. Rupert lumbered over to her and leapt onto the bed. His floppy jowls spread out on the quilt. “Shoo! No, get off the bed.” Rupert only looked at her with sad, tired eyes. He stayed where he was. “Great. Well, at least try not to get drool on the bed.” Her shoulders sank defeatedly. Her foot hooked through the strap of her backpack and pulled it over to her. The zipper snagged as she tugged it open. In frustration, she yanked it back. The teeth pulled apart leaving only one side of the zipper still attached. Jo ran her fingers through her blonde hair, trying to calm down a little. She could really go for a drink right now. The first item she pulled out of her backpack was a picture frame. The glass had a fine crack running through it. The skin of her finger snagged along its edge as she traced the faces in the picture. An image of a small, blonde boy gazed up at her. In the photo, she had her arms around him. A baseball field was in the background. She placed the picture carefully on a small desk that was under the window.

“Who’s the kid?” Jo spun around towards the door. The girl with dark hair was leaned up against the doorframe blowing on her nails. “None of your business.” Her voice was harsher than she meant it to be, but she didn’t back down. “Whatever. Dinner’s almost ready.” The girl pushed off from the doorframe and walked towards the stairs. Jo took a moment to compose herself before she left her room. Rupert followed lazily behind her. The dining room was set with four places. In the center of the table was a bowl mounded high with fried potatoes. Beside it was plate with boneless pork chops and a pitcher of sweet tea. Libby was at the head of the table. The dark-haired girl was sitting opposite her. Jo uneasily took one of the remaining seats. Rupert sulked off to a corner and melted into a pile of wrinkles on the floor. “Sorry I’m late, Miss H.” A young man entered the dining room, tugging up his sagging pants. His baggy clothing engulfed him. He sat across from Jo and immediately stuck his fork into a pork chop and drug it to his plate. “Who’s the new chick?” “Thank you for ing us, Mickey. Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves and share a little bit about ourselves since we have a new guest? I’ll start. I’m Libby Hanover, and I’ve been clean for thirty wonderful years.” She turned her head look at the young man to her right. “Name’s Mickey Davis. The ladies call me Mickey D. because they be lovin’ this—” “Mickey!” Libby shot him an offended glare. He chuckled, “Sorry, Miss H. You can call me Mickey. Been clean for two months.” A cocky smile spread across his face. Their eyes turned towards the dark-haired girl. Her voice was emotionless, “I’m Caroline. I’ve been sober seventeen days.” “Uh, I’m Jo. I’ve been clean for two weeks.” She smiled awkwardly and looked down at the table.

“Alright! Well, everyone help yourselves!” Libby poured herself some tea and watched gleefully as they started loading down their plates. “Did Mark end up getting that apartment on East End?” Mickey spoke through a mouth full of food. Libby nodded, “Mhmm. He left to get moved in early this morning.” She turned to Jo, “You would have liked Mark. He was a poet.” “Miss H, don’t go sayin’ that. He was a rapper.” Mickey contorted his face as if being called a poet somehow cheapened Mark’s work. Caroline put her fork down. It clattered noisily against the plate. “Can I be excused?” Libby’s lips formed a small frown, but she nodded. The dark-haired girl stood up quickly and walked out of the room and back up the stairs. Her footsteps didn’t make a sound. Mickey leaned across the table as if to tell Jo a secret, “She’s a little bummed he didn’t say good bye. They had a thing going, you know what I’m saying?” He winked and went back to chewing his food. “So, Jo, what is it you do?” Swallowing the bite she had been wallowing around in her mouth, Jo cleared her throat. “I’m between jobs right now. I’ve got an interview tomorrow though.” She hoped she didn’t sound too pathetic. Some vodka would really take the edge off of this situation. Jo dug her nails into her palms, trying not to think about it. “How wonderful! I’ll make sure to make a good breakfast for you then.” Libby clasped her hands together happily. “What about you, Mickey?” She was eager to get the focus off of herself. “Me? I’m a current stock boy for Frank’s Grocery Emporium. The big FGE.” He said this proudly and pretended to pull some suspenders away from his chest as he spoke. “Hey, I’ve got an employee discount, so if you ever need something, I’m your guy.” “Thanks.” Jo secretly hoped she would never need to go down that road, but it was nice of him to offer.

After dinner was over, Jo started to help clear the table, but Libby shooed her away, “No, no. It’s your first night here, and you have an interview tomorrow. You go rest!” “Better listen to her. Miss H don’t take no for an answer.” Mickey smiled and hooked his thumb through his belt loop to keep them up. “Ladies first.” He gave a sort of bow and waited for Jo to take the stairs first. “How long have you been here?” “Couple weeks. Mark had been here the longest. Then it was me. Caroline showed up a few days after I got in, and now you’re here.” “How long do people usually stay here?” “Depends on the person. Me, personally, I dig it here. Miss H always has a hot meal, and I don’t have to deal with junkies crashing at my place anymore.” They ed Caroline’s room and the next door which Jo now saw was a bathroom. Mickey paused at the door between the bathroom and her new room. “Well, this is my stop.” “Goodnight.” “Hey, Jo, listen. This place is kinda old, so if you hear some stuff in the middle of the night, and you get scared, just know Mickey’s right next door. You can come over anytime.” “Uh, thanks.” Jo tried to hide the cringe she felt and kept walking to her room. The sunlight had faded. The trees over the pond cast ghastly shadows across the lawn. Jo pulled off her shoes. The wooden slats were cold against her bare skin. She placed a kiss on her fingertip and touched it to the boy’s forehead in the picture. Even just one shot before bed would help. It didn’t have to be much. Just one shot of vodka. Jo bit her lip as she fought back the temptation. She climbed into bed in her clothes. She felt more comfortable being dressed in a strange house, especially with Mickey next door. The springs in the mattress creaked and groaned under her. One of them coiled into her shoulder blade. Jo reached back and punched the pillow to fluff it up. She tried to shimmy it down to cover the spring digging into her, but just as she

got one covered up, another wound its way into a new muscle. After tossing and turning for twenty minutes, she managed to find a less painful position on her side facing the wall. Her breathing quieted and slowed to a shallow rhythm. Just when she was about to fall asleep, a noise made her eyes fly open. The hinges on her door creaked. Had she ed to lock the door? She couldn’t . Heavy breathing panted from the doorway. She could feel eyes boring into her. Jo was frozen in place. The breathing got closer. She could feel the heavy bursts of hot breath on her neck. All of her muscles were locked into place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even make a sound. A frightened tear welled up in the corner of her eye. The bed gave a sudden heave, and she was aware of another body next to hers, pushing her closer to the wall. A brown tail thudded happily on top of the quilt. Jo breathed a sigh of relief. She turned over and glared at Rupert, “Get out of the bed.” He laid his floppy cheeks on the bed and pushed his paws into her back. “You can’t take up all of the room.” Rupert blinked at her sleepily and closed his eyes. Within seconds he began to snore in his sleep. Jo sighed in frustration and tried to get into a mutually comfortable position with her new bed mate. The next morning, she woke up with her arm draped over Rupert. She smiled defeatedly and patted his head. A long, low pitched squeak came from him followed by the smell of rotten eggs. “Ugh!” Jo shoved him away with one hand and covered her nose with the other. “Did he gas attack you?” Mickey stood in the doorway. The door was still open from where Rupert had nosed his way in the night before. A towel was wrapped around his shoulders, and he was dressed in slightly less baggy clothes than yesterday. “It’s terrible!” “Yeah, that’s my bad. Slipped him some cheese yesterday at lunch. Listen, the bathroom is free if you want it. Breakfast will be ready soon, so don’t take too long.” He stumbled back to his room over his untied shoe laces. Jo sat up in bed. She could have sworn Rupert was smiling at her. Grabbing clean clothes from her backpack, she headed to the bathroom. She double checked that the door was locked before she undressed and took a quick, hot shower. Her hand grabbed the closest shampoo bottle and squirted it on her head.

She didn’t even look to see what kind it was. Steam filled the room as she rinsed off. Squinting through water-clumped lashes, Jo grabbed a towel and dried herself off. When she stepped out of the shower, she could see that the mirror had fogged up. On the glass, someone had drawn a smiley face. Probably Mickey from when he showered before her. Jo rolled her eyes and pulled on her clothes. She flicked off the light behind her and headed downstairs. As she left the bathroom, the face on the mirror shifted to a frown. The dining room was already set when she got downstairs. Everyone was in the same seats they had the night before. Caroline chased a blueberry around her plate with her fork while Mickey dug into a stack of pancakes. Libby sipped coffee from a dainty white cup and looked at each of them fondly. “There she is!” Libby’s smile doubled when she saw Jo. “How did you sleep?” Not wanting to sound ungrateful, Jo found herself instantly replying, “It was great. Thank you so much for letting me stay here.” “It’s my pleasure. I hope you’re hungry!” “Starved.” Jo managed to scarf down three pancakes before her stomach groaned in protest. “What time is your interview?” Libby was adding more sugar to her coffee. “Eight thirty.” “Oh, cool! You can come to town with me then. My shift starts soon.” Mickey wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I’m dragging Caroline, too. Taking her to see Mark so she’ll stop moping around so much.” “I’m not moping.” Caroline glared daggers at him. “You don’t have to hide your pain from us. This is a house of . Right, Miss H?” “That’s right!”

Caroline sighed and hung her head. Mickey jumped up from the table, powered by pancakes and heaps of syrup. He waited by the front door for the two girls to follow him. A light fog sprawled across the lawn and stretched out onto the road. Mickey walked to the side of the house and started a green truck that looked like it was being held together by duct tape and hope. He revved the engine and pulled it around to the front of the house. The enger side window squeaked down. “Hop on in, ladies! Your chariot awaits.” “I’m not sitting in the middle.” Caroline’s deadpan eyes stared into Jo. “Fine.” The handle stuck a little as she tugged it open. A tiny green tree hung from Mickey’s rearview mirror. It swayed back and forth as he bounced them down the road. Jo was very careful not to let her knee touch Mickey’s. She was smashed between the other two like a human barrier. A coke can rolled around in the floorboard. The sleepy little town was just beginning to open its store-window eyes. Mickey parked on the curb by East End Apartments. Caroline opened the enger side door and slid out of the seat. She left the door open behind her as she pressed an intercom button on the outside of the building. “Yeah?” A gruff, older man answered the call. “You got any idea what time it is? If you ain’t selling girl scout cookies, get lost!” “Is Mark there?” “Mark? Listen lady, I just moved in to this place yesterday. There ain’t no Mark here. You’ve got the wrong place.” “Are you sure?” “Am I sure?! Yeah, I’m sure! Scram.” The intercom clicked as he let go of the button. Caroline walked back to the truck. She climbed back in and placed her hands in her lap. “He said apartment 717, didn’t he? Did I wrong?”

“Nah, that’s what he said all right.” Mickey shook his head. “That’s not like him. Mark was a real standup guy, you know.” He clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry, Care. If I knew, I wouldn’t have brought you out here. Man, that’s lame.” The green truck rumbled down the street to a grocery store. Mickey parked it. Caroline slid out of the seat to let Jo out. “Hey, if you stick around until after my interview, I’ll walk back with you.” She felt bad that Caroline had been lied to. She knew what it was like to get hurt by someone she cared about. “Whatever.” Caroline shrugged, but she didn’t start to walk away. Jo took it as a good sign. “Mickey, set the oranges out, will you?” A balding man pushed a pair of glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “You got it, Mr. F.” “Wish me luck!” Jo waved over her shoulder and headed off down the street. Mickey yelled back at her, carrying a crate of oranges in his arms, “Knock ‘em dead!” A few stores down from Frank’s Grocery Emporium was the Penny and Dime Gazette. A little bell tinkled as Jo walked through the door. A wrinkled woman squinted up at her through coke-bottle glasses. “Can I help you?” “I’m Josephine Baker. I have an interview.” She cleared her throat nervously and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Charles,” the woman yelled, “there’s someone here to see you.” She gave Jo one final disapproving look before pecking away at her keyboard again with her two index fingers. A short man with a mustache came out from a back room, “You must be Jo. Come on back, and let’s get you started.” Following along anxiously, Jo was lead into a hallway. Picture frames of old headlines lined the walls. “I don’t really have much experience, but I promise to be a hard worker.”

Charles stopped walking and turned around, “Well, you can read, can’t you?” Jo nodded. “And you can put things in numerical order?” Jo nodded again. “Then you’re hired. Come on. Let me introduce you to Kelly. She’s our current intern, but she’s having a hard time putting all of our old issues in order by herself.” He pushed open a door to a storeroom. Metal shelves piled high with dustcovered boxes filled the room. “Whoa.” Jo looked around in awe. “Yep, we have a physical copy of every issue we’ve ever printed snice 1949.” Charles placed his hands on his hips proudly. “Unfortunately, the boxes are all jumbled up and the issues are all out of order. Kelly, this is Jo. She’s going to help you get everything in order.” He turned to look at Both of them in turn, “I’ll leave you to it then.” “Grab you a box.” Kelly was a lanky blonde girl who looked like she was just out of high school. A pink bubble hung from her mouth before she popped it with her teeth and continued chewing her gum. Jo grabbed a box marked “1952?” and sat on the ground beside Kelly. A ring of newspapers overlapping one another swallowed her in a semicircle. “Some of these headlines are weird. ‘Margaret Belfried Knits Largest Scarf in the County.’ People used to get excited over the strangest things.” Kelly popped another bubble. “Here’s one. ‘Mayor Wins Pancake Eating Contest.’ I wish things like this were still the most newsworthy things happening.” Jo smiled to herself and put the paper down. “Really? I think that would be super lame.” Kelly pulled out another one. She sat up eagerly, “No way!” “What?” Jo glanced over half-heartedly. “Check this one out.” She held the paper over so Jo could see it better. “That house looks familiar.” “Oh, that’s the old Hanover House. More like Hangover House now though.” Kelly snorted to herself.

Jo felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She tried to hide her embarrassment, “What happened over there?” “You don’t know about it? I thought everyone knew. Are you new to town?” “Yeah.” Kelly leaned in as if she were about to reveal a secret, “Back in the sixties, there was this guy who lived over in the Hanover house. His name was Joseph Hanover. He used to run a meat market over on Sycamore Street.” “What’s wrong with that?” “What’s wrong with that is where he was getting his meat from. Everyone thought he was really big into charity and stuff. He would take in hitchhikers and give them a meal and let them stay the night. The next day, it would just look like they had moved on out of town, but really he ground them up for his meat market.” “You’re just messing with me.” Jo squinted at her and shook her head disbelievingly. “No, I swear it’s the truth.” Kelly held the paper over closer so Jo could read it better. The article outlined the people who had come up missing over the years. Clothing and jewelry found mixed with a pile of buried bones near the pond matched several cases from the past seven years. The murders happened before DNA evidence was used, but many articles of clothing matched what the missing people were wearing the last time they were seen. The bones were confirmed to be human remains, and in the basement of Hanover House, the authorities found body parts that Joseph was still in the process of preparing. The house was left to his younger sister Elizabeth. “So, did Elizabeth sell the house or something?” Kelly pulled the paper back and folded in, “No, she still lives there. I think she goes by her nickname now though. Libby or something.” Jo’s blood pounded in her ears, “Hey, I’m not feeling well. Do you think it

would be ok if I took off early today and came back tomorrow? I really thought this was just going to be an interview. I didn’t expect to start working today.” “Doesn’t matter to me.” Kelly shrugged. “Just tell old Charlie you’re cutting out before you go.” Jo stood up shakily. She tried to keep a smile on her face, but it kept slipping revealing the sick feeling in her stomach. When she walked back into the main reception room, Charles was pouring water from a cooler into a small paper cone. “I know you wanted me to start today, but I’m feeling kind of queasy. Do you think I could come back tomorrow?” “Well, that’s fine, but you won’t get paid for today.” “That’s completely understandable.” Jo nodded and pushed the door open, “Thank you!” Her body felt clammy as she walked down the street. Tunnel vision dimmed everything that wasn’t right in front of her. Up ahead she caught sight of Caroline leaning up against some crates of oranges. Jo had forgotten about her, but now she sped towards her. Her legs pumped against the sidewalk. “How’d it go?” Caroline’s voice was monotone, but part of Jo recognized it was nice of her to even ask. Jo grabbed the other girl’s elbow and pulled her away from the customers who were browsing for groceries. “Did you know that Libby’s brother was a serial killer?” Her voice was hushed. Caroline sighed heavily, “That’s just a rumor.” “I saw the newspaper article!” “Are you serious? I always thought it was just a rumor because people didn’t like the fact that he was a little different.” Jo bit her lip, “What do you mean by different?” “He was always quiet in school and kept to himself. Never really socialized with people. They thought he was weird, so they started rumors about him.”

“What about the bones and clothing they found by the lake? And the meat in the basement?” “People are mean. It’s a small town. My grandma told me once that Joseph had tried to ask out one of the girls in her class who was dating a quarterback or something. Well, the girl’s boyfriend found out about it and beat the crap out of him. He always had it out for Joseph after that. When the quarterback graduated high school, he went to work for the paper. So, you can see why some of us think he was innocent.” “That’s terrible.” Jo knitted her eyebrows together. How could someone accuse another person of being a murderer just because of a silly high school feud? “That’s small towns for you.” “Does he still work there?” “Nah. He died a few years back.” Caroline’s words had calmed her a bit, even if they had appalled her as well. The charm of the town was tarnished a bit by the exposure of this part of its history. Suddenly, the sleepy little town seemed to have a layer of cobwebs over it. Jo still felt uneasy. People were capable of such horrible things. Mickey placed a crate of apples near the oranges, “You two lovely ladies hanging around to see me at work?” He lifted his arms to show off the small bulges on his upper arms and struck a few poses. “You wish.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Ready to head back?” Jo felt silly for rushing away from her first day of work now, but she had already said she wasn’t feeling well. There wasn’t any going back now. “Sure.” The two girls started to walk back towards Hanover House, leaving Mickey to his antics. Dust coated their shoes. Swirls of gritty, wind-swept dirt pricked their skin. The sun was rising overhead, and the brightness stung Jo’s eyes. Clouds offered only brief relief. Their fleeting shade was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Cows chewed lazily and swatted flies with a flick of their tails. They watched the two girls apathetically from behind a barbed-wire fence.

Jo heard a sigh and turned to look at Caroline, “Are you ok?” “Just peachy.” “I know it isn’t really much of my business, but why would Mark lie about where he was going?” Caroline ground her teeth together. “I don’t know.” “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll listen.” “Thanks.” Caroline kept walking. She didn’t expound on the Mark subject. Up ahead, Hanover House came into view. It seemed to loom darkly ahead of them. Jo took a deep breath and tried to shake off the uneasiness that had settled into her stomach. It looked exactly the same as it had before, but she still felt uncomfortable. It was stupid. She was giving in to the rumor, and it upset her how much it was affecting her. Rupert was lounging on the porch. His tail gave a few happy thumps as they climbed up the steps. His mild enthusiasm made her smile. Caroline pushed open the door. It creaked on its hinges. They could smell something cooking in the kitchen. Libby poked her head out into the hallway. “Oh, you’re back! Lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes.” “Do you need any help?” Jo stepped forward. Rupert slipped in between the screen door and the doorway before it slammed shut behind her. “Oh, no. I’ve got it, dear.” Libby ducked quickly back into the kitchen. Caroline was already plodding her way up the stairs. Jo started to follow her, but then she noticed Rupert. His fur was standing on end. His tail stood out straight, and a low growl grew in his throat. The dog was looking towards the shadows under the stairs. Jo strained her eyes to see what he was looking at. Her heart pounded in her chest. Peering into the dark, she thought she saw something glint in the gloom. Rupert suddenly let out a bone-rattling bray. The loudness made Jo scream and jump. She clutched at her chest. Libby rushed out again and waved a dishtowel at him, “Shush, you! You scared the poor girl!” She turned towards Jo, “Sorry,

dearie. He’s old. Sometimes he thinks he sees squirrels and rabbits in the shadows.” “It’s okay.” Jo offered a skittish smile. It didn’t feel like he was seeing a squirrel or a rabbit. A shiver ran over her skin leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. She quickly walked up the stairs to get as far away from the shadows as possible. Something in her told her to resist looking back. She shut the bedroom door behind her and paced back and forth. The picture frame with her and the young boy caught her attention. Her lip quivered. It was getting to be too hard. There was too much happening. She felt afraid and depressed. Jo ran her fingers through her hair. A light knock caught her off guard. Caroline’s monotone voice carried through the door, “Libby says lunch is ready.” Jo took a deep breath and shook her hands to shake out the jittery feeling in her body. She forced a smile on her face and opened the door, “Sounds good. Let’s go.” The girls walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Libby was placing a salad bowl in the center of the table. Bright red tomatoes and slices of cucumber were tossed into the lettuce. A warm meatloaf was already sitting on the table. “Oh! I didn’t even ask you earlier. How did your interview go?” Libby sliced the meatloaf and placed some on a plate for Jo. “I got the job.” She managed to keep a smile on her face, but she really didn’t want to go into details. Caroline had no such qualms. “She heard about Joseph for the first time today.” Libby paused for the briefest second before fixing a plate for Caroline as well, “Is that so? It really was a terrible thing, but I’ve come to with it now. Here honey, you’re so skinny. Why don’t you have a second piece?” She held out the plate until Caroline took it from her. Clanking forks and the smell of food lured Rupert into the dining room. His sad eyes looked up at Jo pleadingly. She snuck a small bite of her meatloaf into her hand and dropped it under the table for him. Rupert sniffed the food but then turned away and slunk off to the corner of the room. He snorted huffily.

Jo’s eyes skimmed the room and fell on a black and white photo of two young people. One was clearly a young version of Libby. The other was a young man with black-rimmed glasses. His frame was small. He was tall and lanky. Jo examined his face. Freckles spattered his cheeks, and a messy tuft of dark hair tried to fall into his eyes. He didn’t look like a killer. “Is that your brother?” Libby turned towards the picture. The room seemed to get a little colder. “Yes, that’s him. That’s the only picture I have of him. Mom and Dad weren’t really big on photos.” “He looks...” Jo trailed off trying to find the right word. “Normal?” “Yeah.” Libby smiled sadly to herself for the briefest second before clearing her throat and picking up her fork again. “He was.” Once lunch was over, Jo stood up. “I think I’m going to go for a walk, if that’s ok?” “Of course, dearie. Why wouldn’t it be?” Libby scooped up the dishes and cleared everything away. Jo walked to the door. Behind her, she could hear Caroline walking up the stairs to her room. Rupert’s nails clicked along the floor, and dishes clattered into the sink. The sun was dipping lower in the sky. It cast cool shadows across the grassy yard outside. The green blades brushed alongside her shoes. Tiny golden dandelions sprinkled their way through the grass. A light breeze rippled the surface of the pond. Jo knelt down and picked up a rock. She rolled it around in her fingers before skimming across the surface of the water. Jo laid down on the bank. Sunlight warmed her skin. If she could just rest for a moment, maybe some of the guilt that curdled in her stomach would subside. Her breathing eventually slowed. Soon, she felt a soft blanket of sleep fall over her. A light chill stirred her. Jo’s eyes flew open. It was dark outside now. Dew slicked her skin and dampened her clothing. Crickets thrummed nearby. Panic

filled her. She could feel someone watching her. For a moment, she was disoriented. A twig snapped close by. A dark figure loomed ahead of her. Messy hair splayed in the moonlight. A scream caught in her throat. “There you are! Miss H wanted me to come get you. Dinner is ready.” Jo let out a sigh of relief. “Mickey!” “Yeah? Who else would it be?” He reached out his hand to help her up. “I thought you were...Never mind.” Jo dusted off her back and let him pull her up. She felt icy fingers run across her arm, and she shivered. Mickey looked at her in concern, “Are you cold?” “A little. Not too bad.” He started to drape his arm around her shoulders, but she ducked away. “So, how was work?” She tried to change the subject to distract him. “Eh, work is work. Mr. F is a cool guy though. Let me bring home some bananas that were starting to bruise.” “That’s nice of him.” “If you ever need any produce, let me know. I can get you a pretty sweet deal.” She could tell he thought this was impressive. His cocky attitude made her smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Mickey paused. He squinted into the darkness. “Did you see that?” “See what?” Fear pricked through her again. He shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, never mind. I thought I saw someone. Guess I need some sleep.” “Who did you think you saw?” “Oh, I don’t know. It was just a shadow. My eyes are still adjusting to the dark.”

Jo walked closer to him. Even though she would never it it out loud, he was the most comforting thing in the darkness. Lights in the house glittered through the windows. Jo was on edge until they were inside. Her nerves eased a little once they were basking inside in the electric light, but she still felt anxious. “There you are! Welcome back.” Libby poked her head out from the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry!” “You know it, Miss H!” “Tonight, I thought we would have hamburgers.” Caroline was already seated at the table. “Please, us.” Her voice was flat, but her eyes said she was tired dealing with Libby’s excessive happiness on her own. “Oh, man! This is amazing.” Mickey took a big bite. Juice dribbled down his chin, but he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I’m so glad you like it.” The lights flickered overhead. “Do you want me to go check the fuse box, Miss H?” “Oh, no. I’m sure it’s nothing.” The lights flickered again. “Are you sure?” “Yes, no need to worry about it. It’s just an old house. There’s bound to be a few creaks and wiring problems.” Glass shattered somewhere on the second floor. The four of them turned their faces towards the sound. Mickey didn’t ask this time. He stood up and went upstairs to investigate. Hooking his fingers through his beltloops, he tugged his pants up and took the steps two at a time. Jo followed him to the bottom of the stairs, “What was it? Do you see anything?” The feeling of unease was gaining strength inside of her again. “Looks like a picture frame fell and broke in your room.” He called down to her

over the railing. “Oh, Rupert must have bumped it. I’ll replace it for you, dearie.” Libby’s voice carried in sympathetically from the dining room. “Yeah. That must have been it.” Jo’s voice was hushed as she saw Rupert come out of a room down the hall on the first floor. Something else had caused the picture to fall. She swallowed hard and walked slowly up the steps. “Careful. There’s glass on the floor.” Mickey waited outside her room as she walked in to survey the damage. Jo felt her chest tighten. The picture of her and the young boy was face down. She lifted it up. Tiny scratches scarred the picture’s surface. Her heart ached, and she felt hot, angry tears well up in her eyes. Her breathing intensified. It was too much. Her shoulders shook as she gave in to the bottomless well of pain in her chest. “Whoa, whoa. What’s wrong?” Mickey rushed over to her and knelt beside her. He pulled her into his arms and held her. Jo was surprised at the strength of his embrace and the comfort it provided. It had been a long time since she had been hugged. “I can’t do this anymore.” A ragged breath rattled through her. “I need a drink. I don’t care what it is, just please, please help me. I can’t take it.” She looked up at him through glassy eyes. Gentle empathy softened his features, “Jo, you can do this. I know it’s hard right now, but if you give in you will hate yourself even more afterwards. Just hold on. This will .” He waited until her sobs had mostly subsided before he said anything else. His voice was soft, “Who’s in the picture with you?” She pulled away from him and traced her finger along the little boy’s face, “Timmy. He is—was my brother.” “Was?” “Yeah,” Jo sniffled, “He and my parents were killed in a car accident. It was my fault.”

“How was it your fault? Were you driving?” Jo’s face was still wet with tears and red from crying so hard. As she spoke a new wave of sobs broke her voice, “No. They were on their way to pick me up from a party. I got too drunk and couldn’t make it home on my own. If I hadn’t been drinking, they wouldn’t have been on the road that night.” “Is that why you quit drinking?” “Yeah, but it was too little too late.” She sighed heavily, “I know it’s terrible, but I still feel like I need a drink, you know? Just to take the edge off.” “But you feel like if you give in then you’re letting them down again.” “Yeah.” Jo was surprised at how much talking to someone was helping her. It didn’t take away the pain, but it did make her feel less alone. “You’re in the right place. I’ve been there. Sometimes, you just have to take it one minute at a time. Just go one more minute without a drink. Once that minute is up, see if you can make it one more. There were plenty of times that was the only way I made it through a day or even an hour.” “Thank you for being so nice about this.” “Everyone needs help sometimes.” Mickey shrugged. “I’ll go grab the broom so we can get this swept up.” He stood to his feet and started to leave. “Wait, can I come with you? I don’t really want to be alone right now.” “Sure thing. Just be careful when you get up.” The two of them walked down the stairs. From the kitchen, they could hear Libby trying to convince Caroline to take more to eat. Jo followed Mickey down the hall to a door in the shadows. It was the same place that Rupert had barked at earlier. The hairs on her arm stood up as if the air was charged with electricity. The lights flickered again. “I don’t like this.” She inched closer to him. “There’s nothing to worry about with me here. Mickey will protect you.” His

charm from earlier vanished as he said this, but his cockiness was reassuring simply because of its return to normalcy. Mickey took a few steps down into the basement. It was cooler than the rest of the house. Jo ran her hand along the wall. Her fingers tripped over a jutting piece of plastic. “I think I found the light switch.” She flipped it on, and a naked blub sputtered to life. “Sweet, there’s the broom.” Mickey’s attention span narrowed to the corner closest to them. “Mickey,” Jo’s voice was a whisper. Her eyes were focused on the other side of the basement. Clear plastic covered the cement floor. A metal table with an oldfashioned meat grinder was perched on top of it. The entire setup glinted in the light. “I see you found my brother’s old equipment.” Libby’s frame darkened the doorway above them. “I didn’t know you made your own meat, Miss H. That’s pretty awesome.” “Thank you, Mickey, dear. I thought it would be a nice way for me to keep his legacy alive.” She smiled as she walked down the steps towards them. “What were you needing down here?” “Just the broom.” Mickey waved it in his hand. Caroline peered down at the three of them from the top of the steps. Her eyes scanned the room. “What’s that?” Her eyebrows knitted together as she pointed beside the table leg. Mickey followed her gaze, “Looks like Mark’s lucky bracelet.” He walked over and picked it up. The leather band was carved with music notes and studded with silver. “Oh, he must have left it here when he left.” Libby dusted her hands on her apron. “No. He didn’t. He would have never left it behind.” For the first time, anger filled Caroline’s voice. She loomed in front of them.

The lightbulb flickered. Darkness fell over them. “Don’t panic. I’m sure it will come back on in a second.” Libby tried to reassure them. When the light came back on, the figure of a young man stood at the top of the stairs. His messy hair was unmistakable. Jo felt the blood drain from her face. Through him, she could see Caroline’s blanched expression. His face was contorted in pain and sadness. “Joseph!” Libby reeled backwards. “You can’t be here.” Joseph raised his hand, and the room was bathed in an intense, white light. Jo instinctively closed her eyes and blocked her face with her forearm. When she lowered her arm, the air around them shimmered. It was like looking at the world through a layer of water. Images and sounds were distorted. “You think you can ask her out? You wish!” A beefy young man had Joseph pinned to the ground. Joseph’s face was starting to bruise, and his lip bled freely. They melted away. The pair were replaced with an image of Joseph sadly bent over the dining room table. Libby was standing over him with her hands on her hips, “You can’t keep bringing home strays. We barely have enough food to feed ourselves! Do you think giving hitchhikers food and a bed for the night will make them like you? Look at you. No one could like you. You’re pathetic.” The scene shifted again. A young woman with dirty clothes and tired eyes tapped Libby on the shoulder. Startled, Libby spun around from chopping carrots and slashed blindly. The blade sliced the girl’s neck, and she fell to the floor grasping at Libby. Instead of a scream, the only thing coming from her throat was blood. Libby’s face was a mixture of fear and panic. Joseph rushed into the kitchen. She looked from the pool of blood gathering around her skirts to her brother, “I told you not to bring anyone else! This is your fault. She’s dead because of you!” A second later, the images swirled again. The blood had already been mopped up. Libby crossed her arms and looked at the dead girl’s body. She was alone in the kitchen now. “It would be a shame to let this go to waste.” Another shimmer showed Joseph slamming his fist down on a table, “I won’t let

you get away with this! It’s not right!” “Did you ever stop to ask where your meat was coming from? You didn’t seem to care too much when I was bringing you fresh meat. Do you really think people will believe you had no idea what was going on?” Libby’s eyes were bugging out of her face. Her hair was messy, and her face was speckled with blood. “I don’t care! I’m going to the police.” He jabbed his finger at her and stormed off. The next scene showed a tear-streaked Libby with smoothed hair and perfect skin standing in an office. Jo recognized it as the Penny and Dime Gazette. The same beefy guy from the first image was sitting behind a desk. “Please, you have to help me. I didn’t know who else to turn to. I think my brother has been killing people.” Swirling images melted to show Libby crying while the police dug up bones and tattered clothing by the pond. The beefy guy was there snapping pictures as Joseph was led away in handcuffs. Libby stopped crying for the briefest second, and a malicious smile crossed her face before she started sobbing again. One final scene appeared before them. Libby held a notepad in her hand. She looked older now, and she was wearing the same apron Jo had seen her wear since she had come to Hanover House. Scrawled on the notepad were a series of names. There were always seven girl names followed by one boy name and then seven more girl names. The series of names were divided by a dark hand-drawn line. It was clear that at some point, disposing of bodies had changed from what she thought she had to do into what she wanted to do. It was an obsession, an addiction. The section she was looking at currently had seven girl names. Under the last one, she penciled in the one more male name: Mark. The lights faded, and slowly the basement fell back to its natural dimness. It took a second for everyone’s eyes to adjust. The apparition of Joseph was gone. Jo cast her eyes around to see if she was the only one who had seen the visions. Mickey and Caroline were staring in horror at Libby. “You killed Mark!” Caroline let out a scream and started to rush towards Libby. Pulling a knife out of her pocket, Libby aimed the blade at the charging girl.

“Oh, I may have killed him, but you all ate him! I hope you enjoyed those seconds you degenerate! You’re all a bunch of lowlifes and addicts. Do you think anyone would really miss you?” Caroline stopped short, looking for anything to use as a weapon or a shield. Suddenly, Libby lunged at her. A jarring bray reverberated through the basement. In a bounding leap, Rupert closed the gap between himself and Libby. His teeth sank into her arm. The knife clattered to the floor. Jo screamed and closed her eyes. The next time she opened them, Libby lay motionless on the ground. Bright red blood dripped from Rupert’s muzzle. Jo was shaking. Mickey grabbed Jo and Caroline by the hand and pulled them upstairs. Rupert remained by Libby’s side. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called the police. Within a few minutes, flashing blue and red lights pierced the house’s windows. When the officers arrived on scene, they went into the basement where Rupert was sitting next to Libby’s body like a silent sentinel. His tail thumped into the pool of blood, spraying the wall.

Epilogue

A few weeks after the incident at Hanover House, an anonymous letter to the editor was submitted to the Penny and Dime Gazette. It was a compilation of three different handwritings. The letter concerned the validity of an old article that had been published in the sixties about Joseph Hanover. The correspondence went on to describe the events leading up to the death of Elizabeth “Libby” Hanover and the secret she had kept over the years. It began with the following words: “Sunlight raked its final fingers of light across the porch of an old colonial house...”