*violence

*Dedicated to the people who want scarier stories/ mysteries. Inspired by all the scary movies and books that I’m familiar with. If you want to get in the mood I’m in while writing this, listen to Evanescence - Bring Me to Life. Something about the music is invigorating. Also, this isn’t in my regular universe.

 

That Night

By Moon-Spinner

 

Trixie sighed and blinked back tears as she flopped down on her bed. Her parents rarely ever grounded her from anything, but when they got the call from her school that she was flunking Math again, it was too much. They had immediately canceled Trixie’s plans to spend the weekend in New York City with the rest of the Bob-Whites and the Hubbell twins who were visiting for a couple weeks and attending Sleepyside High because of a 4-H show. Mr. Wheeler had gotten Broadway tickets to Phantom of the Opera and had planned to take the group with him to see the show. It was a big deal event, everyone was going, even Dan. Trixie’s parents had gotten the call on Friday and had immediately decided that their daughter’s time would be better spent staying inside Crabapple Farm all weekend, reviewing logarithms and linear planes. It was a bitter punishment, but Trixie knew that she deserved it. The rest of the Bob-Whites were disappointed to go without her, but they did anyway. After all, she had done this before on their trip to Arizona and it wasn’t their job to act like her parents and make sure she kept her grades up, did her chores, and didn’t kill herself running recklessly head first into bad situations. Besides, the Hubbells were really looking forward to it.

Trixie sighed again and opened her math book. She flipped aimlessly through the pages and began reading about isosceles triangles. It was going to be a long weekend.

"Trixie, we’re going out to dinner in Croton and Bobby is spending the night at the Lynch’s house. When we get back I expect you to have all of chapter 9 worked out. I’ll be checking!"

"Yes, Moms," Trixie called down the stairs. She had been studying since her parents told her that she was grounded and she already had most of chapter 9 worked out. She was even 90% sure that it was mostly correct. She heard the car pull away from the house and decided to go fix herself a meal; she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

While she was frying some ground beef to go in the tomato sauce, the phone rang. Grumbling, Trixie quickly covered the meat with a lid and ran to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

She listened intently and heard nothing but silence and the sound of someone replacing the receiver. Puzzled, she assumed it must have been a wrong number and returned to the kitchen. No sooner had she begun to stir the meat than the phone rang again. She quickly ran to the other room and picked it up again, all the time wondering why her parents wouldn’t just invest in a cordless phone.

"Hello?"

This time she heard someone breathing. A raspy, wheezing kind of noise.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Click.

Growing annoyed, she stomped back to the kitchen to find that her meat had stuck to the pan. She cursed and added it to the sauce anyway, so what if it would be a little crunchy?

She had just put the frying pan into the sink to soak when the phone rang for a third time. "DAMN IT," she yelled angrily and ran into the other room and snatched the phone. She practically shrieked into the mouthpiece, "What do you want?"

"To converse with my callow female sibling, thank you," came a voice on the other end of the line.

"Mart! Why are you calling me?"

"Just to see what’s up. Are you doing OK?"

Trixie’s eyes filled with tears again as she thought of the fun the BWG’s must be having without her. "Yes, I’m OK. I’ve been working on Math ever since Moms and Dad grounded me. I’m pretty much finished with chapter 9. Moms is going to check it when she gets back tonight."

"Hang in there Trix. You just need to focus. You’ll be fine."

"Thanks Mart. Are you guys going to the show tonight?"

"Yeah, and Mr. Wheeler managed to get a discount on tickets to see The Lion King for tomorrow night. It’s really awesome. We’re about to leave for the show in a few minutes when Bob and Barbara get back from shopping. Bob didn’t bring a tie and they ran out to get one."

"Wow, that’s really great. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back."

"I would video tape it, but no cameras aloud. Sorry sis."

"That’s OK, thanks anyway. I’d better let you go, I have stuff cooking. I didn’t eat all day because I was so excited. I hope you guys are having fun and don’t worry about me. This is my own fault."

"All right Trixie, I’ll talk to you later."

"Tell everyone I said hi, OK?"

"Sure thing. Bye."

"Bye."

Just as Trixie hung up and turned to go back into the kitchen the phone rang again. She picked it up and said, "Forget something?"

Chills ran down her spine as she heard a voice rasp into the phone, "No, Trixie Belden, I haven’t forgotten."

"Who is this?"

Click.

She pushed her uneasiness aside, convincing herself it was just a prank. It was the sort of thing that Lester Mundy would do. She decided that if she got anymore calls that night she would call Lester and chew him out. Feeling irate with all pranksters she went back into the kitchen and finished preparing her meal.

She was just finishing up her cheese ravioli when the phone rang again. "THAT’S IT!" She stomped to the phone and was getting ready to lash into the caller when she remembered the earlier call with Mart. Instead she said a deceptively calm "Hello?"

"Trixie? It’s Moms. Dad and I are having car problems and it looks like we won’t be able to make it back tonight. We broke down just outside of Croton. Dad managed to get it running again, but there’s a bad storm and a lot of fog coming in and he doesn’t want to chance it on the road back home until conditions are better. We’re going to get a room here and come back tomorrow. Will you be OK there by yourself? I know that everyone is gone from up at Manor House..."

"I’ll be fine Moms, if worse comes to worst I can go to Mr. Maypenny’s or call the Lynches. You and Dad be safe!"

"All right Trixie. I know that you’re seventeen years old now, but I still worry."

"It’s OK Moms. I’ll just stay in and work on math anyway."

"Well, let me give you the number to the place we’re staying tonight..."

After Trixie had taken down the information her mother gave her and assured her one last time that she would be safe alone for the night, she cleaned up the kitchen and headed back upstairs to her room and popped in a CD that Nick Roberts had burned for her. It included a few songs from Letters to Cleo, Evanescence, Sheryl Crow, Michelle Branch, Beth Hart, and an assortment of other powerful female singers.

She sat down at her desk and looked at the text book, but couldn’t summon enough will power to actually start studying again. She yawned and stretched, looking around for any excuse not to buckle down. Taking advantage of the empty house, she punched up the volume on her sound system and went to take a shower.

She turned on the water and stripped. She stood under the steam for awhile, letting her body relax. She’d been tensed up ever since she had started studying. She still couldn’t believe that she was failing Math, and couldn’t understand why. The last she had heard, her grade was a C. Of course, that was before the killer test she had taken last week. That must have been it, she decided. I must have bombed that test and that’s what’s failing me now.

The shower curtain billowed into the stall and stuck to her legs. She hated when that happened. She felt cool air circulate around her ankles and frowned. Shrugging, she pushed the curtain away and continued with her shower. She was almost finished rinsing off when there was a lull between songs and she heard a soft click. Startled she stood stock still and listened, but there was already another song on and she couldn’t hear anything but the music. The noise had sounded like the bathroom door shutting. Trying not to panic, Trixie stood stock still as the water continued to run over her. She tried, but to no avail, not to remember the Hitchcock movie Psycho. Visions of a knife wielding maniac and a bloody shower filled her mind. She desperately wished that Reddy was here, but he was with Patch, Tom and Regan on a hunting expedition.

Trembling, she jerked the shower curtain to the side. She laughed aloud in relief. The bathroom was empty. Quickly she shut off the water and grabbed a towel. Still laughing at her over active imagination, she dried off, dressed in jeans and a black tank top, and began to brush her teeth. She rinsed and happened to glance into the steamy mirror. She stifled a scream of horror. Someone had written into the steam "LET’S PLAY CAT AND MOUSE."

Just then the lights went out and Trixie heard her stereo immediately become silent. Biting her lip to keep from screaming hysterically, she tried desperately to lock the bathroom door. The knob came off in her hand. She tried to calm down by breathing slowly. She would have to get out of the house and get help. She was certain the phones would be disabled if the power were out. She didn’t want to stay in the house with a mad man anyway. She thought back to the phone calls that she had classified as pranks. Not even Lester Mundy would sneak into the bathroom while she was in the shower.

She opened the door and froze in the pitch black, afraid to move lest someone was out there. She listened intently and thought she could barely discern footsteps downstairs, towards the kitchen. Moving swiftly and silently she ran into her room and shut the door. She didn’t have a lock because her parents thought that children didn’t need locks on their doors. She grabbed her desk chair and wedged it underneath the door knob.

Fighting down panic and hysteria, she found her boots in the dark and quickly put them on. If she tried to run for help barefoot, she’d only be slowed down. She stood and began pacing the room, trying to formulate a plan to get herself out of the house. She looked at her small window and then down at the ground below. It was a pretty far drop. Lightning streaked across the sky. The storm her mother had talked about in Croton was on its way to Sleepyside.

Footsteps walked slowly down the hall outside her bedroom. Someone stopped beside her door and began to whisper. "Trixie Belden, what’s the matter? You don’t want to play? Let’s play hide and go seek, Trixie. You hide and I’ll seek. Or would you rather do the seeking, detective? Don’t know who I am? Poor little shamus. I’ll give you a hint, I had a partner. Of course, she’s dead now, Trixie. I had to silence her. Nothing personal, just business. You understand."

Trixie fought hard to not breakdown into hysterics. Someone, probably one of the criminals she had captured, was set on revenge. She didn’t speak to the person outside her door. Her silence seemed to anger them.

"What, you can’t speak? Scared, are you? You’re all alone, Trixie. No one will be here to hear you scream, to watch you beg. I can smell your fear. I can taste it. I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long. It’s all going according to my plan."

Trixie suddenly felt cold all over. "What plan?"

Her stalker laughed maniacally. "The plan to make sure that you would be alone here tonight, of course. Who do you think gave Mr. Wheeler such a fabulous deal on Broadway tickets? Who do you think called your parents and told them you were flunking math? Who do you think told your parents that they won free dinner reservations at La Chateau in Croton? Who do you think fixed their car to make sure that they wouldn’t be able to return home to you tonight? Oh my dear, I’ve been planning this for so long. I knew what the weather would be tonight, I knew where the breaker switch was for your house, I knew that Tom and Regan would be gone hunting and your dog would go with them. It’s all paid off. Everything has worked accordingly and now you’re all mine."

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I want revenge, Trixie. I want you to suffer. I want you to fear. I’ll tell you who I am just before I kill you."

She felt like she was about to be sick. "What are you talking about? I don’t even know you!"

"Oh, you do. You and I go way back."

Another streak of lightning illuminated the room, and she found a baseball bat on the floor. She picked it up and backed away from the door.

"I’m tired of talking. I want to see you. If you’re not going to be a good girl and run and hide, then we’ll go ahead and begin. I think I’ll start by cutting off your fingers, one by one. Or maybe I’ll take your virginity first. You’ve blossomed into a lovely young woman. You are still a virgin, aren’t you sweetie? Still waiting for Mr. Perfect Jim Frayne? Or have you moved on to that hood, Daniel Mangan, now? Doesn’t matter, really. There won’t be enough left of you for either one of them when I’m finished. Think I’ll burn your body in the preserve, start a nice forest fire. Open the door, Trixie. I’m ready to play."

As he pushed on her bedroom door and tried to force it open, Trixie tried desperately to push her window up, but it was stuck. Not daring to waste any time or energy in opening it, she took the bat and smashed out the glass. She cleared it out as best she could, but she saw her desk chair beginning to give from the force. She climbed on the window sill, the glass sharp against her skin, and jumped. She landed on her feet and then fell and rolled. The force of the impact nearly caused her to lose her breath. She struggled up and ran as fast as she could towards the preserve and Mr. Maypenny’s cabin, dropping the bat in her rush. The crash of her bedroom door being busted in reverberated behind her.

For awhile she was so intent in getting as far away as she could that she didn’t realize she was injured. She ran blindly through the preserve, blood dripping from her fingers. The jagged shards of glass from her bedroom window had cut into her arms and hands and she was bleeding freely.

"Oh God," she sobbed as she tripped over a root and fell onto the dirt trail. "God help me."

She stiffened and grew quiet when she heard thudding footsteps behind her. As quickly as she could, she jumped up and continued running. She didn’t even know what direction she was going in anymore, she was lost in the preserve at night with a stalker she hadn’t even seen somewhere behind her. She didn’t have a light or a jacket or anything, and she was injured. The wind was whipping her hair into her face and her arms and hands were beginning to lose feeling from loss of blood and chill.

"Triiiiiiiiiiixieeeeeeeeeee, I know you can hear me. Come out and play, baby. It’ll be fun. It’ll be so much fun, you’ll just die." It was a voice that sounded vaguely familiar, but in her panic she couldn’t place it. She ran faster, concentrating on not falling on the trail. Tears ran down her dirt streaked face.

Suddenly she became aware that the only thing she could hear were her own footsteps running on the path and the howling of the wind. She stopped and listened. Silence. She took a deep breath in relief. Still scared and nervous, she walked down the trail, looking around suspiciously and listening for any sound out of the ordinary. She had no idea where she was, and she only prayed that this trail would take her to Mr. Maypenny’s cabin and she wouldn’t meet her stalker on the way. His voice had been so familiar, it was maddening that she couldn’t place it.

After a while, Trixie grew more confident that she must have left her stalker behind her. She was still cautious, however, and glanced uneasily around anytime she heard a noise in the wood. She rounded a corner and saw the cabin blazing with light. Tears of relief sprang to her eyes and she began to scream for help and run forward. Just as she was passing the garden, she tripped over something lying on the ground and went down. She painfully got to her hands and knees and looked at the dark object.

"NO, OH GOD, NO," she began to scream hysterically. She had tripped over the body of Mr. Maypenny. The old man had an ugly gash across his forehead and blood was pooled on the ground. She turned her head and wretched.

A dark shadow fell over her crumpled body. "Get up. I told you, no one will save you tonight, Trixie Belden." He jerked her roughly to her feet to face him. He was dressed in black from head to foot, wearing a black ski mask.

Her rage finally caught up to her. Fire flashing in her eyes and she slapped him across the face, even though he couldn’t feel the sting through the fabric of the mask. He just laughed at her show of temper, so characteristic of her, and slapped her back hard. She could taste blood. He roughly pushed her back on the ground, away from Mr. Maypenny.

"I said I would deflower you first, didn’t I?" He straddled her legs and began to paw at her. "Deal with it, detective, no one is here to save you. No Bob-Whites, no parents, no kind old neighbors. Face your fate. You’re helpless."

Feeling rage replace her earlier panic, Trixie spat out, "Then I’ll help myself. I am Trixie Belden, I AM NOT HELPLESS." She fought through the numbness and jammed her fist into his neck, finding his jugular and squeezing while simultaneously taking her other fist and punching him in the groin. Her attacker was sufficiently weakened and she shoved him off her body.

As fast as she could, she got up and ran into the tiny cabin. She grabbed the phone and began to punch in 911. "Hello? Hello?" She realized that the phone had been disconnected and angrily threw it across the room. As she tried to calm herself down she saw Mr. Maypenny’s gun cabinet in the corner. Without wasting time, she ran to it and tried to open the door. The cabinet was locked.

"No! Damn it!" Hastily she opened one of the drawers underneath and found a small, silver .357 revolver.

"Trixie, I’m tired of playing. It’s time."

She turned slowly, the gun behind her back and faced her tormentor. He had removed his ski mask and stood before her, grinning madly.

"You! How can it be you? It’s impossible! I thought you were-"

"You were wrong. It’s time, Trixie. Say good-bye." He pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. "I promise to make this quick and easy."

Tears blinded her as she took the gun from behind her back, prayed that it was loaded, and pulled the trigger...

 

 

Meanwhile:

"What do you mean she’s nowhere to be found? She has to be here somewhere!" Brian was yelling at Jim and Dan. "Oh God, Trixie!"

"Brian, calm down. We have to be calm about this or we might never find her," Jim tried to soothe his friend.

"Her bedroom door was busted in, her window was broken and there was blood on some shards of glass and in the yard and all over a baseball bat, how can I possibly calm down?"

"Brian, breathe. You know Trixie, she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. She’s probably fine. We just need to find her," Dan said. Jim took a flashlight and went back out to the yard and examined the ground.

"You’re right. It’s just that she’s my baby sister, and after what happened -"

"Have faith in her, man."

"You’re right, Dan. We just need to find her."

"Guys, I found a trail of blood leading into the preserve," Jim said, coming back to Brian and Dan. "I think I can follow it with a flashlight, but it might be slow going."

Gun shots from the direction of Mr. Maypenny’s cabin sent the three racing through the preserve, fearing the worst.

"Trixie, oh God!"

She groggily opened her eyes, vaguely wondering where she was, wondering why she felt like she’d been run over by a freight train.

Then she remembered.

"Brian!" She began to sob as her older brother put his arms around her and held her, murmuring to her as if to soothe a small child. For once he forgot about the physical injuries.

Jim was bent over the lifeless body of Bob Hubbell, checking in futile hope for a pulse. Finding none, he looked at Brian and shook his head. He had suffered three gun shot wounds to the chest. Not a pretty sight.

Dan came in from outside, tears streaking his face. "Mr. Maypenny is gone."

"Oh Brian, this is all my fault," Trixie sobbed into Brian’s shoulder.

"No, Trixie, no it isn’t. Bob was sick. He was schizophrenic. He heard voices that told him what to do. He thought everyone was out to get him," Brian said. Tears ran down his face as well.

Trixie suddenly remembered something Bob had said earlier. "He said he had a partner and he killed her. What was he talking about? Was that just senseless babble?"

The three boys looked down at the ground before Jim said, "He was talking about his twin Barbara. He killed her, Trixie. That’s how we knew he’d come back to Sleepyside and we came as fast as we could."

"He left her body in the alley behind the Wheelers' apartment building. There was a witness who could describe him in detail. The witness heard Bob call a taxi and tell the driver to take him to Sleepyside. We assumed he was coming back here because of you," Dan said.

"Mr. Wheeler, Mart, Diana, and Honey are still in New York. Bob and Barbara’s parents are flying in. His mother told us that Bob was sick. I guess she didn’t realize how bad it really was," Brian said. He rubbed Trixie’s back as she continued to cry. Dan wordlessly got a sheet and covered Bob’s body and took another outside to cover Mr. Maypenny.

"Brian, I killed him," Trixie sobbed.

"You had to. He would have murdered you if you hadn’t."

"B-But..."

"Shhh, it’s OK, Trixie. You didn’t have a choice."

"And Mr. Maypenny..."

"You know that he would be proud to die protecting you, Trix," Dan said as he came back inside.

"He never got the chance," she sobbed. "Bob probably killed him before he even knew what was going on."

Brian continued to hold his sister while Jim and Dan reconnected the phones inside the cabin and called the police.

Trixie passed out again just as the flashing blue lights pulled up to the cabin and the threatening storm unleashed its fury.

Trixie was in the hospital for several days. Not so much because of her physical injuries, but because of her emotional health. The Bob-Whites and their parents and friends were all shattered.

Bob and Barbara’s parents took their bodies back to Iowa for burial. It was a bitter end for all the youth, talent, and possibilities the two had.

Mr. Maypenny was buried in his backyard, just like he wanted. Never separated from his land.

Time passed and the horror grew less piercing, but no one could ever forget the terror of that night.

The End

TBH Main