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Blood Ties	By : maiafay376 Category: +S through Z > Silent Hill Views: 6706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Lunch with Frank, confrontations, and eavesdropping on horror...
--------------------Chapter 4: Do You Miss Me?--------------------
The next few days had passed without incident, and Daniel almost believed that he imagined the whole thing. He kept to himself during that time, organizing his new apartment and painting late into the night. He saw no further sign of Walter--or his bleeding walls; no eerie dolls appeared on the couch, and his dreams had returned to normal. He emerged from his isolation on Thursday morning to buy groceries and submit a change of address to the post office. Daniel hoped the creditors and their nagging would be a distant memory, and it was now safe to reveal his new location.
When he had returned, Daniel visited Frank in his office and expressed apologies about the other day, asking if anyone had filed an official complaint. Frank only laughed and told him not to worry about it--then invited him to lunch. Daniel was surprised at the offer, but accepted.
After a silent but comfortable truck ride, he now sat across from the older man, watching him sip his coffee and eye the crossword puzzles on the paper Daniel was reading. They were dining at an Italian restaurant close to the apartments. It was early, around eleven o� clock, and only a few patrons occupied the dining room. Upon arriving, Frank and Daniel had made the most of the extra table space, picking a seat next to the patio garden outside.
Their waitress was a friendly and plump woman, with long blond hair that seemed to never stay in her bun. She had introduced herself as Peggy, and after taking their order, she made some idle chitchat, glancing at Daniel often while she talked. Frank kept kicking him under the table, raising his eyebrows higher and higher as she flirted. When their food arrived, and with the lunch crowd now filing in, a reluctant Peggy wandered off and waited on other customers. But she returned to refill Frank�s coffee and ask if everything was okay--four times.
�I think she�s taken a liking to you, son," Frank said with a smirk and a knowing glint in his eyes. "But, I bet you get that all the time don�t ya?�
Daniel shrugged, feeling his cheeks warm. �No. Not really. I was always too busy taking care of my father to get involved with anyone. I don�t know how to relate to them anymore--women I mean, most seem frivolous to me.�
�Yep, they may seem that way, but you have to take a chance sometime. Get out, live a little.� Frank said, his eyes scanning the paper as Daniel folded it over.
�Do you want the puzzles?� Daniel offered, pushing it across the table. Frank waved it away, focusing on the last bit of his ravioli and shoved it into his mouth.
�Nah. If I start messing with those damn things, we�d be here �till evening. Trust me, I hate leaving spaces unfilled.�
�Oh, okay.� Daniel smiled and pushed his plate to the side, his eyes roaming over the customers around them. He watched everyone as Frank ate: taking in tiny details of facial features, hair, eyes, and the way clothes folded over limbs. It was a bad habit ever since art school, an unconscious thing he started doing when he thought no one was looking. His eyes would pick out pleasing contours and the way shadows fell across a person�s face. Daniel knew people would think he was strange for these observations--so he never mentioned it to anyone. People stereotyped once they knew of his profession, and he�d rather not add another oddity to their lists.
His eyes appraised the small crowd, never lingering too long on a subjects face--lest he be glared at for being rude. His attention returned to Frank the moment the older man coughed and pushed his own plate aside. Frank dabbed his chin with a cloth napkin. �So, Daniel�" he began, "how did the meeting with Lucia go? Since you apologized over the van incident, I�m assuming you and her became acquainted?�
Daniel nodded, trying to shove away the dream that came to mind as soon as the super mentioned Lucia's name. �Yeah, she was interesting. I earned the nicknames Sunshine and Baby, and was invited to visit her apartment," he chuckled as he remembered her sultry demeanor and added, "but, I better not show up until after four pm. Whatever that means.�
Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head. �Ah yes, doesn�t waste time in getting to know the more attractive residents does she? Males especially. Had a big problem with Lucia and the last tenant that rented your room," Frank looked around the restaurant and leaned forward, pitching his voice lower, "Andre nearly killed him! You do know she has a boyfriend right? She lives with him." When Daniel nodded, Frank breathed a thankful sigh. "Good. I just wanted to make that clear. That girl always neglects mentioning that fact to whoever catches her eye. That Andre's a piece of work, and someone you don�t want to mess with. He�s a violent and angry young man. I don�t know what she sees in that fool other than his money. Makes me feel sorry for her, but she refuses help from anyone--"
He broke off as Peggy bounced their way, armed with her ever-flowing coffee pot and beaming smile. Frank's lips twitched as he continued. "Anyway, after the incident, I told Andre if he ever hits her again, or attacks another tenant, he and Lucia need to find another place to stay--� he paused as Peggy took his cup and refilled it, her gaze on Daniel. Frank cleared his throat as coffee splashed on top of the table and onto the sleeve of his white dress shirt.
�Oh! Sir, I�m so sorry!� She blushed a fervent red and dug in frantic haste for the napkins in her apron. She gave Frank a thick wad to blot his shirt and then more napkins to mop the spill. He took the blunder in his amiable way and told her everything was fine. She stammered another apology and left, not glancing back as she hurried into the employee area. Frank gave Daniel deadpan look, but Daniel just shrugged and hid his smile.
�What?�
�Well, good thing I wasn't holding that, or you'd be paying for my hospital visit," Frank said, and then laughed when Daniel shot him a belligerent glare. "Just teasing you, son," he winked and resumed the earlier conversation. "You know, I hated to expose you to Lucia's whims the first day you moved in, but she was the only one I saw after I tried rousing you myself. It's a good thing I noticed your van�s doors open, I would've hated to see your belongings stolen over that. Didn't notice anything missing...er, there wasn't anything missing, right?" When Daniel shook his head, Frank nodded. "Good, good. I had knocked a while, but with all that lifting I figured you probably conked out. I had some business that couldn't wait, so I told Lucia just to keep trying �till you woke. Apologies, if it put you in an awkward position.�
�No�not at all," Daniel assured him. "She wasn�t so bad really�just came on a little strong. The only thing that made me angry was when I met Melanie, Lucia wouldn�t refer to her by her real name, and kept calling her Stutter Bunny. It was rude. �
�She doesn�t do that around me, and if I ever caught her--she would hear a thing or two. As I said, I don�t tolerate residents antagonizing each other, spying on each other, or hurting each other. I know we don�t live in the best part of town, but there�s need to act like a bunch of hoodlums.�
Daniel laughed and took a swig of Pepsi, � I haven�t heard that term in ages. Hoodlums. Makes me think of those old gangster movies.�
�Well, it�s true,� Frank laughed as well, the hearty chuckle causing a few patrons to glance their way. �But that Melanie's a good girl. A little shy at times, but I never had a problem with her. A bit of a pack rat, though. One time, I was repairing a broken pipe under the sink, and I swear, everywhere I looked there were stuffed bunnies--stuffed bunnies on the floor, stuffed bunnies on the furniture--big bunnies, little bunnies--those ugly, pink things from old Lakeside. I think she�s obsessed with them for some ungodly reason.�
�Really? That�s weird.�
Frank shifted in his chair, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to hide the coffee stains. �I suppose everyone has their quirks--but some are more�odd than others,� he laughed again, his blue eyes sparkling as he sipped on his coffee.
Ever since lunch had begun, Daniel was waiting to broach the subject of room 302. With the mention of Melanie and her unusual habits, now seemed a good time as any. �Speaking of quirks, may I ask you a question?�
�Yes?� Frank studied him with interest.
�Why is 302 never rented to anyone?�
It was surprising how quickly Frank�s expression soured, and how the crease on his forehead deepened. �Who told you that I don�t rent out room 302?�
�I�d rather not say�it�s just a rumor really,� he shrugged, trying to lighten the sudden shift of mood with a smile. Frank did not smile back.
�Well, you shouldn�t listen to rumors--most are useless and are created to make things interesting for bored folks. I just don�t rent the room out. It has some bad piping and other issues, issues that I don�t have time or the money to fix it right now.�
�Bad piping?� Daniel let the disbelief creep into his voice and Frank�s expression hardened.
�Yes�why? What else have you �heard� about 302?�
Daniel fidgeted under the super�s glare, and tried to sound causal. �Oh nothing I guess, just that its stood empty for about two years for really no good reason�and the fact that someone named Henry Townshend disappeared there.�
�Henry? Who told you about Henry?�
Daniel stopped fidgeting and sighed. �I don�t want her to get in trouble, but it was Melanie. But, she only told me after I had asked, so don�t be angry! I just wanted to know what happened in that room--and don�t give me some lame story about piping. Something bad happened there and I want to know.�
�No son, you really don�t want to know," Frank took another sip of his coffee, thinking over his words before he said them. "Because not even �I� know exactly what happened. Every tenant that moves into that room--either dies, disappears or leaves suddenly for no apparent reason. I gave up keeping that apartment rented--so now it stays empty.�
�So, what happened to Henry?�
�Henry left. He broke his lease and took off without paying me. End of story.�
�Frank, I�m not an idiot, I know his windows and doors were locked from the inside. He disappeared, vanished--and I want to know why.�
�Daniel--� Frank leaned forward on his elbows and fixed him with a reproving look. �This discussion is over. 302 is empty, and will remain empty as long as I�m the superintendent of SAH. That apartment is locked tight, and only I have the key. There are no ghosts, spooks, or anything supernatural about that room. Don�t go looking for things that aren�t there. I know you think the rumors are intriguing, but that�s all they are--rumors. I think it's best if we end this discussion before my mood gets any worse�alright?�
Daniel ignored the warning in Frank's voice, and pressed the issue even further. �Does Walter Sullivan have anything to do with room 302?�
Frank paled, and the expressions that passed over his face were disquieting. He worked his jaw and appeared on the verge of losing his temper. �Son, I have no idea who that is--" he said, his blue eyes icy. "And this conversation has ended.� Without another word, Frank rose and proceeded to the cashier station, leaving Daniel to stare after him.
Way to go, idiot, now you pissed him off�
Alarmed with Frank's behavior, Daniel left a few dollars for the tip and hurried over to pay for his share of the meal. But, Frank swatted his hand and grunted, giving the woman behind the counter payment for the entire bill.
�Frank�you don�t have to do that--�
Frank growled, not meeting his eyes. �I am and I did. Now, get in the truck; I have to make back to SAH by
two.�
�A-alright��
Daniel walked outside and Frank followed, his expression like stone as he opened the door and unlocked the passenger side for Daniel. The drive back was uncomfortable; Frank remained quiet and surly--not even turning on the radio or looking in his direction. Daniel sat on the edge of the seat, wondering what he could say to make things right. He had no idea the mere mention of Walter Sullivan would cause such a bizarre response. Even though Frank claimed no knowledge of the name, Daniel suspected just the opposite. Why else would the older man react in such a way?
�Frank�whatever I said, I�m sorry.�
Frank grunted and kept his eyes straight ahead, flipping on the radio to drown out any further attempt at conversation. Daniel sighed in defeat and stared out the window. If he ruined this budding friendship, he would regret it; Daniel wanted to be on good terms with his landlord, but now had a feeling that was in jeopardy.
Nice job, mouth�don�t know when to stop do you?
All he wanted to know was if Walter Sullivan had anything to do with room 302. Why was that so awful?
After pulling into the SAH, Frank parked the truck and shut off the radio. They sat in silence for a several moments, the empty quiet somehow deafening to Daniel as he remained rigid in his seat, eyes riveted to the outside of the building. He saw Carl and his mother, both walking towards the courtyard and then disappeared around the corner. It was a nice day outside, a little warmer than yesterday, with golden rays of the sun playing peek-a-boo through the high clouds.
Guess you won�t have to worry about sharing that umbrella will you, Carl?
�Daniel?�
Daniel turned toward Frank, his eyes wary as he found the older man staring at him with a mixture of resentment and concern.
�I don�t know where you heard that name, but I don�t want to hear it again. He doesn�t exist for me; he doesn�t exist, period. I know you were only curious, but don�t press the issue again--and don�t test me. Am I clear?�
Daniel swallowed his protests and gave a sharp nod. �Yes sir,� he muttered, his thoughts already whirling over Frank�s words.
�You don�t have to be formal, Daniel, I�m not angry with you.�
Daniel looked up and tried to force a smile. �Okay, Frank. By the way, thanks for lunch.�
�My pleasure. Now, I have to see to some matters around the building, but I�ll be up in an hour or two to fix those problems in your apartment. Be ready for me okay?�
Daniel nodded, opening the passenger side when Frank unlocked it, and hopped down onto the pavement.
�Sure, I�ll wait for you. I have one other thing that needs fixing though.�
�Oh? Found something else have ya?�
�Yeah,� Daniel said, and shut the door, peering at Frank through the window. �I found a hole behind the flower dresser that needs patching. I think it was made from room 302, since my side looks pretty smooth. I don�t care if the room is empty or not, it makes me uncomfortable.� He watched Frank as the older man nodded, his expression neutral.
�Alright, I�ll add it to my list. See you in a bit, Daniel.�
Daniel let out an impatient puff of air and turned, walking toward the entrance of SAH. He looked back when he heard Frank exit the truck, the older man whistling to himself as he strolled in the direction that Carl and his mother had traveled, disappearing around the corner with a wave.
Daniel frowned and entered the building, his pace faltering as he spied Lucia at the mail lockers.
The metal door clicked against the side as she removed several envelopes and ads from the small compartment, and then she closed the door with a snap. She was dressed in almost the same outfit as his dream, but with tan shorts instead of jean, and her hair was loose instead of pulled into a ponytail. Her makeup was less apparent than before, with only a touch of eyeliner and burgundy lip-gloss. Her look was natural, becoming, and Daniel approved. He shifted his feet and cleared his throat, waiting for her to take notice of him. Lucia glanced up and stopped moving when she saw him. She hugged the mail to her chest, her expression more anxious than friendly. Confused with her reception, Daniel came forward, his tone uncertain. �Hey Lucia, haven�t seen you in the last few days. How�ve you been?�
She studied him a moment, appearing to think something over. Then she mustered a lukewarm smile, and shrugged. �Hey, Sunshine, I�ve just been busy that�s all. You know--little things�� she looked down at her stack of mail, and seemed uncertain on what to say next.
�Oh? Sure, I understand�� his words trailed away as he imagined that mouth in the middle of her face, tongue rolling, saliva dripping�
Stop it.
�Did you suck me with that?�
�Yeah, I did, and you liked it��
STOP IT, Daniel!
�I had a dream about you the other night,� she said.
His mind went blank and he stared at her in dumb silence. She stared back, her dark eyes intent. The moment to reply lengthened, and then stretched out of reach, making it impossible for him to answer without appearing like an idiot.
�Oh,� he cringed and mentally slapped himself. He tried to recover, hastily adding, �I mean, that�s interesting Lucia, uh�what--I mean, was it a good dream?� he asked, his throat dry.
�No,� she offered him her familiar and sultry pout. �Well, actually, the first part was amazing! I enjoyed everything we�did,� her face shadowed, her eyes becoming unreadable. �But later, you started screaming at me�and then you ran away. I couldn�t find you. It was dark and--� she shuddered, grasping the mail tighter to her chest. An envelope poked under her chin, and she grimaced, slipping the paper back down. �It was just freaky, you know. I--I had a bad feeling when I woke up�like something was wrong. I don�t know, forget I said anything. Maybe I�m just loco.�
Daniel stood silent, his own thoughts swirling in a dark jumble of questions and fears. From what she described, it sounded as if she had shared a similar nightmare. The similarities were uncanny, but it was only a dream, right?
Lucia waited, watching to see how he would respond. With great effort, he shook himself free from his thoughts. �That sounds really intense, Lucia, but I�m sure it was nothing. You know how dreams are--all metaphor and symbolism. You�re just stressed out, or something,� he was tempted to hug her, but refrained. �I wouldn�t worry about it too much. It�s just a dream.� He shrugged and forced a small laugh.
�Yeah, you�re probably right. It�s just a silly dream, nothing to worry about,� she laughed warmly, her demeanor reverting to the sensual Lucia that had greeted him a few days ago. She balanced the mail in one hand and came closer. Eyeing his shirt, she ran her finger along the collar, �You know, you look good today; I like that shirt on you--it makes your eyes almost blue�� she came closer still, her voice dipping lower. �And you know, that shirt would look even better with some of these buttons undone--�
�Yo, Lucia! What�s taking you so long?�
Lucia stiffened and recoiled, clutching the mail in fear. A few pieces from her stash fluttered to the floor. A short, Hispanic man came pounding down the steps, slowing his pace as he reached the landing. He glared at Lucia and Daniel through beady eyes. Daniel shifted in his spot, watching Lucia as she tried to act casual. He figured this was the infamous Andre, and there was probably a good chance the anger and violence that Frank had warned him about, would happen within the next five minutes.
�What are you doing?�
Lucia gave a flippant shrug. �What�s it look like I�m doing? I�m getting the mail, Andre--you can�t see the fricking letters in my hand?�
Andre approached, his gait tight and coiled as if he were about to pounce on something. He came within touching distance of Lucia and glowered at her. She tensed, her mouth pressing into an unflattering line. Andre was clothed in only his jeans, his barrel chest thick with dark hair and a thin goatee stained his chin. His hair was shorn close to the skull, with only the hint of thinning apparent along the forehead. His eyes were round, but cold, cunning and reminded Daniel of a weasel.
�Yeah I see �em," Andre sneered, his eyes appraising Daniel as if he were raw sewage. �But, what I also see is some gringo talking to my woman. Is this the new guy in 303?�
Before Daniel could speak, Lucia answered for him. �Yeah, he�s the new guy. Leave him alone, Andre, he was just coming for his mail.�
�Thought you said he was ugly,� Andre kept running his tongue over his front teeth, working his jaw back and forth like a cow chewing on a stale clump of grass.
�What does it matter what he looks like?" she snapped, her eyes flashing and her cheeks dotting with pink. "You think he ain�t? Interesting Andre, that�s a whole nother side of you I ain�t seen before--�
�Watch it, bitch.� Andre looked sideways at her, and Lucia fell silent. Daniel�s jaw ached from clenching it, and he fought to remain calm. One more word out of Andre, and Daniel was tempted to slug him right there. But, he kept his cool and took a step back, his expression neutral.
�Hey, I�m not looking to get involved with Lucia. I was just on my way back to my apartment, that�s all. No need to get bent out of shape--�
Andre took a step closer, his ears turning an interesting shade of crimson. �Are you disrespecting me, gringo? Because that�s all I�m hearing out of that pretty boy mouth of yours--disrespect,� he took another step toward Daniel. His dark eyes glittered. �Like I told the last asshole, and the asshole before him, and then asshole before him: stay away from my bitch. She�s mine, understand? Don�t look at her, don�t talk to her--I don�t even want you in the same room as her,� he snorted, pressing his knuckles into the palm of his other hand. �All because my dog likes to wander, doesn�t mean you gotta be her tree--got it?�
�No, I don�t got it.� Daniel replied, his nails digging small pits into his palms. After what he saw in that dream--and how Walter tormented him--Andre�s little intimidation act didn�t register. Daniel was livid this man thought he could just throw his weight around and that he would slink into the corner. Maybe with the previous asshole of 303, and then asshole before that--but not him.
�What did ya say to me?� Andre was inches away, close enough to smell the beer on his breath, and the sour scent of his body.
Oh, so you�re drunk aren�t ya, asshole? What's the matter? Pissed off that you can�t slap Lucia around, so you take it out on the first person you see? Guess it�s just my lucky day to be standing in front of you isn�t it? But, I�m not as weak as you might think, and you�re going to learn that the hard way�
�S-stop it! Y-you can�t fight in here! F-Frank will be coming any m-moment!�
Daniel swiveled his head to find Melanie watching them from the first floor, her oval face pressing against the bars, and her green eyes wide. Andre snorted and began to laugh, pointing up at her as if amazed by her presence. �Aww, look�little Stutter Bunny just hopped out of her hole. Ain�t that fucking cute?� His voice was high-pitched, belittling, and Melanie shrank from the bars and stood. �Yeah, that�s right, Stutter bitch, hop back into that hole and don�t come back out. No one wants to look at you anyway.�
�Shut the hell up and stop calling her names! How old are you? Fucking five?"
Andre was in his face before he could blink. The sweaty meat of his skull pressed against Daniel's forehead and forced him to retreat a step. Snarling, Daniel gave a fierce shove, and the smaller man stumbled backwards with a surprised yelp. Andre was on his feet the next instant, throwing off Lucia who tried to hold him back, and prepared to launch himself at Daniel.
�What the hell is going on?�
The sonorous bellow halted both males in their tracks, and they turned to find Frank at the entrance, staring at them with astonishment. The older man strolled forward, his expression becoming more irate the closer he came. �I asked you a question! I said, what the hell is going on?�
Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but then realized that Frank glared at Andre, not him. Andre stepped back, lowering his head and shrugged. �Nothing, Mr. F. Just getting to know my neighbors better,� he said, and lifted his head to give Daniel a genial smile. Daniel frowned and raised his eyebrows as Andre continued to stare at him---conveying some bizarre message with his eyes..
What, so now we�re buddies? Is that it? Uh, don�t think so padre�
Frank glowered and looked up at Melanie. The girl remained fastened to the bars, looking down at them with an anxious frown. He then glanced at Lucia--who in turn, looked away and fiddled with the mail in her hands. Shaking his head, Frank rested his gaze on Daniel, his mouth pursed as if he had just ate a bowl of sour grapes. �Do you want to file a complaint? Because from where I was standing, it looked like Andre was about to hit you. He�s been warned not to pick fights with other residents, and I said the next time I caught him I would make it another formal complaint. So, was he picking a fight, or not?�
Andre tried to catch Daniel�s gaze again, but Daniel refused to meet his eyes. This was not the schoolyard, or some weird, male bonding thing. Andre wouldn�t get off that easy. �Yes, I would like to file an official complaint on Mr. Andre.� Daniel stated through clenched teeth, his heart pounding. Andre clenched his fists and growled.
Frank looked pleased and broke into a wide smile. He gestured them in the direction of his office. �Well then, if you boys come with me, we can get all this settled quickly. This makes twice Andre; one more time and you�re out of SAH.�
Andre mumbled under his breath and followed the super, with Daniel not far behind. Lucia picked up her fallen mail and said nothing in protest. She leaned against the bottom of the stairwell and sighed. Melanie drifted closer to the landing, watching the men as they disappeared beyond the double doors, and into room 105...
---
A formal complaint, and a stern warning later (to Andre, not him), Daniel took the stairs to the third floor and mused to himself as he climbed. He knew he had made an enemy, but it really didn�t bother him. Not as much as it should have. He was apprehensive, sure, and he would be leery when getting his mail or walking outside to his van, but knowing that Frank intimidated Andre was reward enough for him. When they were in Frank�s office, he had lost count how many times Andre flinched when Frank had raised his voice, or slammed his hand on his desk for emphasis. Daniel had a feeling Frank enjoyed giving Andre a taste of his own medicine. A bully being bullied. That was priceless.
Daniel reached the third story landing, and noticed a small figure darting between the doors. Curious, he ventured through the entrance, catching a flash of blue and white down the hallway. Daniel quickened his pace and turned the corner, slowing as a small boy dressed in blue jeans and a striped shirt waited for him by his apartment door. Daniel came closer and the boy tensed, as if preparing to bolt.
�Hey kid, it�s okay. I�m not going to hurt you. What are you doing up here all by yourself?�
The boy peered up at him, his round green eyes intrigued as he looked Daniel over. His hair was a dirty blonde color, short, and his face had round, apple cheeks. A small, smudge of dirt blemished his chin, and there was a tear on the knee of his jeans. Despite his curiosity, the boy seemed uneasy, and Daniel couldn�t come any closer without the boy tensing.
�Are you going to yell at me?� the boy said, and nibbled on his fingernail.
Daniel blinked down at him in confusion. �No. Why would I yell at you?�
The boy shuffled his feet, looking down at the floor. ��Cause�you yelled at the angry man.�
�Oh, no. I was yelling at him because he said mean things to girls. I was trying to make him understand that his behavior was bad. You don�t say things like that to people. Especially women.�
�Oh,� the boy said in a small voice. He appeared to think about what Daniel had said, but then stared down the hall absently. Daniel glanced behind him and saw nothing.
Puzzled over the child�s behavior, Daniel questioned him with a gentle tone. �Are you lost? What apartment do you live in? Maybe I should walk you back, I�m sure your mom is worried about you.� Daniel said, offering his hand to the child. The boy looked suddenly excited, clasping his small fingers over his chin.
�Mommy knows where I am! She always knows. She says I can stay with her forever and ever...� the boy�s eyes were bright, unfocused. He seemed to gaze off into the distance, and it was a trait that Daniel found disturbing, yet familiar.
�Uh, well, that�s good��
�She loves me�only me.�
�Well�that�s--nice. Can you tell me your name? I need to know your name so I can find your mommy.�
The boy ducked his head, eyes now bashful. �I don�t know�they said bad men would hurt me if I left�that everything outside the Wish House is scary�unclean. You�re different than the rest�but, but you�re still from the outside. Mommy might not like me talking to you.�
�What? Why would your mommy say that?�
�Who are you talking to, Mr. Morgan?�
Daniel turned and saw Gladys staring at him with a peculiar expression, her eyebrows raised and mouth fluctuating between a polite smile and a scowl. He gestured to the boy, giving a small shrug. �This child needs to find his mom. Do you recognize him? Do you have any idea where he lives?�
�Um�dear, I don�t see any child,� she said, craning her head to look behind him. �What are you talking about? I came out here because I heard someone muttering, and I found you alone.�
�What?� Daniel whipped his head around and found only empty air where the boy had once stood. He stared at the spot dumbstruck, �I swear there was a child here!� he blurted, his face turning red. �He had a blue striped shirt, blue jeans--blond hair and green eyes�you can�t tell me he just simply vanished into nothing! You should�ve seen him!�
Gladys leaned back and folded her arms, pulling her peach shawl tighter around her. She was dressed in a light blue housecoat, the hem falling below the knee. Mousy brown hair fell over her shoulders, and it flopped like limp string as she shook her head. �There was no one in the hall when I came out. You were talking to thin air.� She said this with careful enunciation, as if afraid that Daniel would fly into a rage at any moment. �Dear, I know that being an artist must be difficult and stressful, but it�s no reason take drugs.�
�I�m not taking drugs!� His head was starting to throb. Daniel uttered a frustrated grunt. How the hell did she know he was an artist anyway? Already the gossip was whirling, and he only moved in three days ago!
Daniel felt his cheeks grow hotter as Gladys gave a placating sigh, �Oh, of course you�re not, dear. I�m not implying that you�re some�junkie�� she leaned forward, and whispered the �junkie� part as if it were a dirty word. �I�m only suggesting that you should seek other methods to relieve stress�that�s all.�
�I don�t have stress!�
�Of course you don�t, dear.� Gladys rolled her eyes, shaking her head. �I suppose then it wasn�t you who was shouting the other day? Screaming in the hallway for someone to �leave you alone?��
Daniel said nothing at first and glowered at the wall. �Yes. That was me,� he hedged. �But I was�just--well, I was just--�
�It�s alright Mr. Morgan. I�m sure living by yourself for the first time can be quite daunting. All alone, with no one to keep you company. I remember when I was on my own�my, it was quite an experience. Perhaps you should consider yoga or meditation? Those work wonders in relieving--�
�No thanks. I don�t mean to be rude, Ms. Porter, but I have to go.�
�Oh, well, if you must��
Gladys stared after him in pity as Daniel entered his room, slamming the door on the woman�s self-righteous platitudes. Furious, he paced his living room like a worried beast, wondering how he just talked to a child only he could see--and if it had anything to do with Walter Sullivan.
Was I talking to a ghost? Is he tied to Walter?
Daniel ruffled his hair and sat on the couch. The boy had a familiar air about him, mannerisms that were similar to Sullivan�s. The vacant eyes-- talking about his mother�it was as if he had met a younger version of Walter, one that was innocent and shy--not the menacing figure from two days ago.
A younger version? That�s not possible is it? Is he trying to trick me?
Daniel got up and paced again, tempted to go into his room and uncover the painting. He wanted to see if the image remained the same. Daniel knew it was a stupid impulse, but he needed to reassure himself that Walter remained chained by his angels--harmless and secure.
He was just on his way to the bedroom to check--when the doorbell rang. Daniel walked back and peeked through the peephole. Frank stood outside holding a green metal toolbox in his hands. He let him in with a lukewarm greeting, and sat on the couch as Frank set his toolbox on top of the counter. The older man studied him a moment, his expression congenial. �Daniel? Are you okay? You seem a little preoccupied. It�s not about Andre is it? You shouldn�t worry; I warned him if he harassed you, he�d be evicted. He won�t be bothering you again if he knows what�s good for him.�
�No, Andre isn�t an issue. I could care less about that jerk.�
�Then, what�s the matter?�
�Nothing really. Just a lot on my mind. Could you do me a favor and fix the hole first? For some reason, that�s really bothering me.�
There was a long pause, but Frank gathered his tools and nodded. �Okay, show me where it is.�
A few minutes later Frank was wrinkling his nose and scowling at the hole.
�I keep patching this damn little bastard up--and for some reason, it keeps cracking open again. I don�t understand it!� He muttered to himself as he knelt, removing the dark piece of paper Daniel had taped, and then filled the hole with spackle.
�So this isn�t the first time?� Daniel sat on his father�s couch, watching Frank smooth the white goo with a putty knife.
�No, former tenant had the same issue. I guess he put the dresser in front of it rather than bother me again. He wasn�t the sort to pester anyone for little things like this. Wish he would�ve told me though.� Frank grunted and rose. �There, all patched up. If you want, I�ll come by later on when it�s dry and paint over it.�
�No, it�s fine. As long as it�s filled, I don�t have a problem--besides, you can hardly tell the difference between the patch and the paint.�
�Suit yourself then. Are these your paintings?� Frank wandered over to an easel sitting next to the window, the canvas upon it depicting a winter scene filled with fairies and ice. The older man squatted to get a closer look, then gave a noise of approval as he leaned back. �Damn, that�s beautiful. You�re very talented Daniel. I can see now why you�re a professional painter,� he praised, his expression awed.
Daniel shrugged in discomfort, always unnerved for some reason when someone commented on his artwork. Frank noticed his unease and cleared his throat. �Well now, what else can I fix for ya?�
�Just whatever you planned on fixing from your list. There�s nothing new that I had found.�
�Alrighty then�I�ll be a few hours. Just go about your business and don�t mind the old fart swearing and banging things okay?
Daniel cracked a hesitant smile, and then laughed outright. �Okay,� and then he added, �thanks Frank.�
�No problem, son.� Frank winked and strode into the hallway.
Daniel closed his bedroom door and went to the closet, intent on continuing his earlier quest. Regardless if Frank was here or not, Daniel had to see the painting.
After the meticulous organizing of his brushes and paints, he had no energy to spend on his closet. Inside was a cluttered mess. He rummaged though the stacks of art boards and drawing pads to find the canvas. While he searched, he knocked over an old aluminum bat that he had tucked into the corner. It had once belonged to his father when he was a boy, and he gave it to Daniel when he had entered Elementary School. But, Daniel never shared his father�s passion for sports, so sadly, the bat sat neglected. After so many years gathering dust in his closet, his mother had snuck it up to the attic. Despite the fact his father often retrieved the Christmas decorations and stored his old fishing trophies up there, he had never said a word about the bat. It made Daniel feel guilty every time he gazed upon the faded logo and scratched metal--that he should have made an effort to play ball like his father wanted.
Feeling melancholy, Daniel�s eyes dropped to Walter�s painting sitting next to the bat, covered with canvas paper and wrapped tight. He paused, debating whether to show Frank.
No�that would just get him riled up�remember the restaurant? Frank said, Walter doesn�t �exist� for him. You�ll only be pissing him off again�
Feeling tired and mopy, Daniel resisted the urge to look at the canvas, and closed his closet door with a slam. He was acting silly. The painting was the same as it was when he had painted it the first time. He shouldn�t give in to his fears. He should take Frank�s advice and just drop it.
Daniel heard a brassy clang and then Frank�s muffled, and quite colorful expletive. His lips twitched with a smile and he opened his bedroom door. Maybe Frank would let him to help with the repairs�
---
The rest of the repairs went well. Frank had left hours ago, and had parted with a pat on Daniel�s back and a promise they would have to do lunch again, sometime. Then Daniel had painted the rest of the afternoon away, and after an unhealthy dinner and a movie he didn�t watch all the way through, he had fallen onto Old Ben�s couch and passed out.
It was around midnight when he jolted awake. His eyes stared into the darkness and he forced his breathing to calm. Daniel gradually recovered his senses, throwing back the covers and sitting up with a frown. What had woken him? He scanned the room for the cause of his sudden alarm, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. Relaxing somewhat, Daniel rubbed his eyes and swung his legs around, preparing to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He stood and started for the hall--when something crashed within the apartment next door--the infamous room 302.
He jumped, bumping into the door with a muffled yelp and stared at the hole Frank patched only hours ago.
The noise came from there.
Creeping forward, Daniel paused every few steps and listened. He heard various scraping and thuds next to his bedroom wall, as if someone were shifting furniture around. This continued for a few moments, and then all was silent. Daniel waited, his ear hugging the wall, and eyes fixed on the hole. He heard a child�s voice, the words unintelligible. The voice and manner of speech sounded familiar, and Daniel perceived fear within the child�s tone. Could it be that little boy from the hallway? The one who reminded him of Walter?
Daniel strained to hear, his face pinching in concentration. The boy jabbered for a minute, abruptly stopping the next. A pregnant pause--then he heard someone running through the room, sobbing in terror.
A slam of a door. The pitter-patter of feet racing past his apartment. Daniel turned toward the sound, compelled to venture into the hallway and investigate. But, as he stood, he heard another noise--this one harder to recognize. Curious, he knelt down and pressed his ear to the wall once more. It was like whispers, but lower--almost like chanting, but without the monotone. Daniel struggled to understand what the words were, but their meaning eluded him. Then all was quiet again until the faint stirrings of music wafted to him, the song familiar as an old seventies tune. Daniel looked at the hole in surprise, but then pressed his ear to the wall and resumed listening.
A woman�s voice rose, pleasant, but her words were only babble to Daniel�s ears. A man joined her a second later. The conversation seemed intimate, but lighthearted. Their words rose and fell as the music played on. The male approached Daniel�s position, and he could almost make out what he said:
�W-ats th-s? Hone- I th-nk th--es some---ing h-re. T-rn on the -ights so I -an s--- be--er��
Daniel frowned as he heard bumping and muttering, then jerked his head back when something scratched above his head. He looked at the hole again warily, as if he expected the mystery man to poke his finger right through. Heart pounding, Daniel edged a little closer, pressing his palms against the surface, and leaned forward. A startled yelp from the other side caused him to recoil, his eyes wide.
The man began to scream. Daniel scampered backwards, his head hitting the back of the couch. Something flopped against the wall, heavy sounding. He could hear the woman now, yelling in confusion--but then her voice changed--becoming thick with horror. The man continued to shriek in random spurts, his voice mingling with another sound that hummed in the background. The hissing rumble vibrated through the walls, and caused the bottles of paint on his dresser to rattle. Wailing rose, many voices, and all in eerie polyphony. Souls screaming, dying, and falling to pieces. If he was standing at the edge of hell, and listening to the cries of the damned, this is what it would sound like.
Daniel was on the couch now, drawing the covers around him like a shield. All the hairs on his body stood on end, goose bumps erupting and spreading from head to toe. He never imagined anyone could scream as this man did--never imagined a human capable of producing such a cry of anguish. Daniel felt tears well in his eyes--and prayed that what caused the man�s agony would be merciful and just kill him. In the background, the woman continued to plead--voice sobbing, begging for someone to help her.
More thudding against the wall, frenzied and desperate. A bone-jarring crack--and then the cries ceased.
The hellish chorus continued unabated, with the woman screeching in fear, her voice further away than before--as if she were running from something. Daniel thought about pounding on 302�s door--barreling inside and putting an end to this nightmare. But, he knew the room would be empty. This had to be some sort of memory haunting, a tragic event in the past that forever repeated itself. Daniel remembered reading about them when he was interested in ghosts and spirits--and these incidents were commonplace in areas with a bloody history. He always tried to imagine what it would be like--to witness the memory of a lover�s quarrel ending badly, or to hear the shouts of soldiers still fighting the civil war. Imagining was different from experiencing--however--and all Daniel wanted now was for this �memory� to end.
The wailing grew stronger, knelling in disharmony. Daniel palmed his ears when the woman�s screaming became only a wet gurgle, her cries splitting the air as if she were choking. Then all was silent. The wails, the screams--even the unnatural humming that Daniel swore he still felt--ended with a whispering hiss. He leaned forward, blanket falling to the floor as he stood, shaking. He came closer to the wall, peering at it suspiciously. Then the wailing resumed.
Daniel bleated and reeled back. It took him a moment to realize that he was hearing the cry of a newborn baby--not howling souls from the abyss. For several minutes the crying continued--forlorn and hungry, as if the baby knew it was all alone. Then, as suddenly as it began, the crying stopped.
Daniel panted, the pulse throbbing in his throat as he stared blankly at his bedroom wall. Finally finding the sense to turn on the light (and berating himself at not doing it sooner), he sat on the couch, mulling over what he just heard, and why. A baby left alone and unharmed--but why was the child spared and not the parents? Who--or more importantly--what had killed the parents? And--for what purpose?
He sat for a while, staring at nothing until his eyes drooped and he began to drift once more. Another �thump� noise jarred him awake and he snapped his eyes to the wall. The thumping began again, but this time softer, almost thoughtful. Daniel continued to gaze at the patched hole, his posture guarded and hands clutching the blankets like a scared child.
Now what?
He heard a man�s voice again--but not the same man as before. It was a different voice--gentle and low. Daniel reluctantly approached the wall, kneeling down to press his ear against the hole.
�I�m sorry Eileen�so sorry. I-I tried�I did--I tried to save you�but I wasn�t strong enough��
Daniel gave the hole a sharp look, blinking as the soft-spoken man began to cry. Heart wrenching and anguished sobs; tears from someone riddled with guilt and regret. And even though they were muffled by the wall between them, the effect was the same to Daniel as if the man wept upon his shoulder.
He pressed his hand against the wall, expression stricken as the man continued to sob. Was this Henry? The man who disappeared after Eileen Galvin was killed? The man did mention Eileen�s name just now--but was it only a coincidence?
Daniel leaned close to the hole, his heart pounding with anticipation. �Henry? Henry is that you?�
The sobbing stopped. Daniel waited for a moment, his breath expelling in rapid bursts. Did he hear Daniel speak? Would he answer?
He waited for several minutes, but the beating of his heart was the only reply granted. Disappointed, Daniel retreated to the safety of the couch and sat down. He glanced at the clock: one-thirty AM. Groaning and feeling jittery, Daniel rose and went through his apartment, throwing on the lights in the living room before heading into the bathroom.
He relieved himself and washed his hands, trying to ignore the ashen pallor of his face. A flicker of movement caught his gaze and his eyes snapped to the corner of the mirror--and the brown lump that just scuttled into his room. He froze, water still running and hands dripping. Reaching down, and without taking his eyes off the mirror, Daniel swiped the toilet plunger off the floor.
Oh yeah�fear me and my plunger�
Feeling like an ass, but too scared to enter his room without a weapon of �some� sort, Daniel spread the door wide, his gaze darting over his bedroom for some sign of the creature. Seeing nothing--but trusting his instincts more, he crept forward--peeking into the closet and under the bed. Still no sign of it. Flustered, Daniel even looked beneath the dresser, behind the couch, out the window--but no trace was found. He threw the plunger back in the bathroom, his hands trembling from the sudden adrenalin rush, and the emotional turmoil of the last few hours. He wanted to scream or punch something--anything to take the edge away from his fear.
Taking deep, calming breaths, Daniel entered the living room, intending to watch a little TV and fall back asleep. That hope fell as he saw the red tinted note jutting under his door--and with heart sinking, he picked it up.
It was stained as the last, but Daniel could detect a faint trace of smoke, as if the paper was charred or burnt. He read the message only once, his throat closing and eyes filling with angry tears.
Do you miss me Daniel?
--Old Ben
He crumbled the paper in fury and tossed it into the waste paper basket. He began walking away, but then stopped, shoulders stiff. Daniel looked back at the trashcan, biting his lip as he considered.
Returning with an indignant sigh, he retrieved the note, smoothed it out on his leg, and then sat down on the couch. He read it over and over again, trying to make sense out of something that didn�t make sense, and shouldn�t make sense. It was his father�s handwriting, and it was even signed with the nickname that only those closest to his father would know�
Do you miss me?
Daniel set the note carefully aside�and began to cry.
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Blood Ties