Page 9 of Don't Look Back
“Hmm, okay, I'll agree… on one condition.”
Edith looks at me with interest, as does Allie.
“I get one personal kill. If I agree to go on your homicidal possession spree, we have to kill someone I choose first.”
“Done!” Edith agrees excitedly, clapping her little porcelain hands together. It appears I have piqued her interest with my request. “So! Who else are we killing? Can we torture them?Please! I have such fun ideas on how we can torture them! Then we can paint each other pictures with their blood! Like friendship bracelets - only way cooler!”
Wow, she was already very on board with this whole murder thing. Although I guess she had a point earlier - it was exactly what she was created for.
Cocking my head to the side, I look to my little AllieCat. “Allie. Kitten. What was the name of that boy I saw touching you?” Her face immediately drains of color despite my overly sweet tone - or perhaps because of it. I didn’t like the way he pawed at her or how pushy he was, not one bit. Especially when I had it on good authority that it was not the first time something like that had happened.
She gulped before granting me his name. “Trey. Well, Trenton technically. But he goes by Trey. I don't know why, since they don't really sound alike… It's weird.”
I cut her off before she could ramble too much. “And does this Trenton, Trey person have a last name perhaps?”
After nodding once, my little AllieCat continues. “Hashberg.”
Wow, seriously. That is a real shitty name. I mean, who names their kid Trenton Hashberg? I guess the same kind of people who think Trey is a good nickname. I wonder if he feels a kinship with the lunch trays at school….or any trays for that matter. Eh, regardless. Not my problem. As long as he dies.
8
ALLIE
Holy shit. I just got a guy killed. I mean, he’s still among the living, but his days are certainly numbered. It doesn’t escape me that I should feel bad about this. Ishould, but I don’t. Not even a little. If anything, I’mexcited. Does that make me a monster? Do I even care? I should also probably be concerned about the fact that I have become best friends with a homicidal doll seemingly overnight. But again, I can’t find it in me to give one single fuck. Not one. Those two deserve to die, and I find myself looking forward to hearing just how loudly they scream. Maybe I can even make Avery scream at the same time. Maybe we can have a competition on who I can make scream the loudest ... though for different reasons of course…
Definitely something to talk to Edith about.
Speaking of Edith, I seem to have doll duty once again. I'm carrying her along with us as we follow Avery through the halls of her father's mansion. She looks so deep in thought, neither of us dares to distract her. Though I will admit, I am a bit curious as to what she's looking for.
I will get my answer soon enough, though.
We head outside and walk the entire perimeter of the property until finally Avery stops in front of a small, hidden underground doorway built to blend in with the surrounding nature. The thing is barely more than a hatch in the ground covered by branches and leaves. If I weren’t looking for anything, I would've missed it entirely. It makes me wonder how many more secrets this old town holds. Though I doubt right now is the right time to ask my question. Not based on the look of concentration she's still wearing.
But that's not all.
Avery has been humming ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ ever since Edith possessed her upstairs.
I don't think she even realizes it.
The tune is darker somehow. Both haunted and vengeful.
Something I can feel all the way into my bones.
Through the small entry, we find a host of narrow tunnels that lead us to a secondary door. Stepping outside, I'm shocked to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, leaves rustling through the wind, and the smell of lake water hitting my nose. Holy shit. The tunnel system led us straight to the harbor. Docked not far from where we stand is an old boat. The name ‘Stella Lynn’ is painted in a now familiar flowing script. My eyes slip toAvery; her hand is clenched around the second key found in her mother's letter. The key to the boat. I guess it’s her boat now.
Edith wiggles in my arms, so I gently place her on the ground. She immediately runs over to the boat, bouncing up and down in what I can only imagine is pure manic homicidal glee. That doll has a dark mind and a far too sunny disposition.
“All aboard, everyone! You still remember those sailing lessons, Avery?” She asks, eyes wide with excitement.
Avery merely arches one eyebrow at us before striding onto the boat. Well, we are about to see how well her mom's lessons paid off after all this time.
Fifteen minutes later, following some very animated directions by Edith, we pull into a small out-cove surrounded by trees. Tying down the boat, we hop down and follow the slight trail into the forest.
“Okay….so does anyone know where we are going? Because I sure as hell don't."
“It's the houseboat, silly! Stella was given a rowboat as a wedding present, but after what happened to Savannah, she secretly traded it in for a houseboat to have somewhere safe in case the need to flee ever arose. Your mom kept the same name and number boat slot, so no one would ever know unless they came down to the harbor. Since your father is afraid of the lake, it was never a concern.” Her cheer subsides for the first time ever. “Since we will sink it afterward, there will be no trace evidence! t'll work perfectly for our needs!” And the moment is gone. Back to the crazed happiness in no time flat.
Sure enough, once the trees begin to clear, there is a large empty field with a barn that has definitely seen better days right in thecenter of it all. Looking at Edith, I can't help but ask, “So, what now? What's the plan, boss?”
