Legends of Windemere

(Remember the good old days? If not then CLICK HERE.)

Christ’s College in Cambridge

Jennifer stops when she sees Charlene leaving the sorority house, the administrator dressed in an ebony pantsuit. Her mouth goes dry when the woman turns to her and waves before ducking into a waiting taxi. The confused student watches the vehicle go by, the windows too dark for her to see what is going on inside. She continues to stare until it disappears around the corner and a rumble of thunder snaps her out of the trance. Cautiously heading up the uneven walkway, Jennifer looks around for the sisters and is freaked out that there are none on the patio or in the windows. The shades have been drawn to prevent anyone from seeing inside, which is unusual for the daytime. Getting to the door, she calms herself down with some breathing exercises and takes the pause to listen through the keyhole. The two actions offset each other, so she goes inside with the same amount of tension she had several minutes ago.

To Jennifer’s horror, every sister, pledge, and friend of the sorority has gathered on the main floor of the house. A sea of scowls and whispered curses meet the nervous theater major when she closes the door and steps further inside. Intimidated by the massive crowd, she stays near the wall and attempts to inch her way upstairs with her head down. Jennifer gets to the first step when the mob parts and shows her what they have prepared for her arrival. The other students have brought all of her belongings to the center of the lounge, which has been cleared out of furniture. Several of the silent students have bottles of lighter fluid, their hands dripping from enthusiastically dousing the pile. Those with matches are standing near the windows, a mad glint in their hungry eyes. Jennifer opens her mouth to speak when one of her former friends steps forward to slap her across the face.

“Don’t you dare try to say that you don’t want any trouble,” the freckled student hisses like a cornered cat. Tying back her blonde hair, she returns to the mob and signals for them to continuing bathing the pile in lighter fluid. “Charlene is revoking our charter because of what you did. She said our parties and acts of vandalism have been tolerated long enough. You killing Natalie and James was the final straw that they couldn’t overlook. Now, we all have to be punished when our only mistake was letting a psychopath into our home.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Jennifer timidly argues while she massages her aching jaw. She ducks when another sister tries to hit her again, but a kick to her leg knocks her to the floor. “Let me talk to Charlene tomorrow. Coach Warner said only I had to leave. He didn’t tell me anything about this, so let me fix it. At least let me get my photos and some of my clothes. For god’s sake, how can any of you think I killed Natalie and James? Do I really look like I have the strength or even the ability to do that?”

“You are a theater major, so you could have been faking it,” says a drunken voice from the middling of the pack. Emboldened by the nods of agreement, the short girl pushes through the crowd until she can grab Jennifer by the ear. “You ruined our futures, bitch. Charlene isn’t going to let us off the hook so easily. She thinks our influence drove you to kill, so she’s keeping an eye on all of us. This might even be noted on our records, which is something I didn’t even think was possible or legal. All because Natalie hurt your feelings?”

“She was trying to drive me out of the house.”

“Then you should have left.”

“I didn’t want to leave. This was my home.”

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t care enough about us to commit murder off the property.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!”

“Nobody believes you, O’Connor, so stop wasting your breath.”

With a high-pitched whistle from the seniors, those with the matches get close to the soaked pile and begin setting it on fire. Cheers go up as clothing ignites and posters swiftly turn to ember-tinted ashes. Sparks fly from the computer and television, which release foul-smelling pops as they burn. An acridness fills the air as Jennifer’s collection of makeup and paints melt into puddles, the stench making her think something toxic was added to the mixture. Blocked from getting close, the theater major can only watch everything she owns go up in smoke that lingers around the ceiling. Staring at the thickening cloud, the thought of suffocating crosses her mind, but she is kicked whenever she attempts to move or speak.

It takes a few minutes for the furniture to start crumbling, which causes the pile to fall apart and spread toward the crowd. Those closest to the bonfire do nothing to get out of the way, their legs struck by the fiery refuse. With screams, most of them fall back in pain, but three pitched forward and land in the flames. Having shown no concern for getting lighter fluid on themselves, the students ignite as quickly as the posters and struggle to get back to their feet. One of them becomes trapped beneath the desk, her shouts for help falling on panicking ears. The other two get free and lunge to their friends for help, but they only spread the flames and force the rest of the crowd to shove all of them into the inferno. With the added fuel, the bonfire licks at the ceiling and pumps out smoke that smells of burning flesh. None of the sisters try to escape even though their eyes are filled with terror, the only time they move being to prevent Jennifer from crawling away.

The tension snaps when one of the pledges tackles a senior into the flames, the pair battling while they burn. Jennifer huddles in the corner as violence breaks out throughout the main floor of the house. Those who are too scared to fight are chased upstairs where the smoke is so thick that only their choking silhouettes can be seen in the cloud. One of the newer members comes falling to the foyer, her neck snapping on impact. Nobody else emerges from the second floor, their faint gasps and coughs lasting for a few minutes Others fight blow for blow, the brawls typically ending with both people falling into the growing inferno. A high-pitched scream startles everyone as one of the seniors rips off her best friend’s arm and begins beating her with it, foam flying from both of their mouths. Cheers rise up at the scene as more try to tear into their opponents with a primal ferocity. Throughout the bloodbath, the fire continues to spread as if driven to swallow the entire building.

A finger falling on her leg snaps Jennifer out of her fear and she tries to make a mad crawl for the door. Staying low to avoid the smoke, she mutters every prayer that she can remember, including fictional ones for movies. Hearing footsteps coming towards her, she turns around to see the short sister approaching. Jennifer tries to move faster, but her ankle is grabbed and she is dragged toward the bonfire. Grabbing an umbrella, she twists her body and flails at the other student’s hands. The weak blows have no effect on the student whose eyes have become glazed with an oily film. Charged from the side, the sister lets go with one hand to lash out and snap the neck of her attacker. Out of ideas and stricken with fear, Jennifer opens the umbrella in the hopes of hitting the other woman in the face. Instead, the ribs extend and stretch to form a mouth that snaps off the upper half of the student’s body like a crocodile. Horrified by the unexpected event, the theater major drops the umbrella and scrambles under a table.

“Please be a dream,” Jennifer whimpers while staring at the hand on her ankle. She gingerly pries it off and nearly throws up before she gets free, the severed body part seeping onto her shoe. “This doesn’t make any sense. Fire . . . People shouldn’t be able to do any of this. It’s insane. I’m going to die in the middle of insanity. Unless this is a dream. Maybe I fell asleep on the bus. After all, none of this can happen. It’s not real. It’s not . . . normal.”

“Never any fun in normal,” a voice coos from a wall outlet.

The chaos freezes in midmotion as a chilling laugh rolls down the stairs and blows out all of the windows. Fed by the rush of fresh air, the inferno explodes and rapidly consumes everything in the house. Dancing figures can be seen in the flames, their movements matching those of the faint arm that extend from the smoke over. Charred bodies fall to the floor while Jennifer closes her eyes, a sudden sense of weightlessness the last thing she feels before passing out.

(Running out of funny things to post here for the links.)

Ohio University

Coach Warner stands on the other side of the soundproof study room, his unblinking eyes never straying from Jennifer. A ring of black hair is around his head, which has been polished to shine when struck directly by the hanging lamp. Taking off his green jacket, the teacher exposes his burly arms that makes the student think of a tattooed bear. He casually rubs his precious collection, which are a patchwork of pictures that vary in style, color, and subject. Scratching at his leg, Coach Warner reveals that he has more on his legs, which are toned and look like they could kick through concrete. Satisfied that the silence has done its job on Jennifer’s nerves, he takes out a folder and drops it on the table. Pictures of Natalie and James’s dead bodies slide toward Jennifer, who clenches her eyes shut and looks away.

“Either you didn’t do this or you’re a better actress than your grades imply,” the Coach says, his chiseled face showing no sign that he is joking. Taking a seat, he pulls out a notepad and repeatedly taps a pen on the cover. “Now, the police seem to think you’re the one behind this. I told them they’re wrong, but my word isn’t going as far as it should. Too many people are aware of your roommate’s attempts to drive you away, which gives you motive. At the very least, you will be taken away for a while in order to be watched. That is unless you can give me an alibi or something that shifts the blame to someone else.”

“Why is the hockey coach doing an interrogation?” Jennifer asks, blurting out the first thing that comes to her mind. A wave of fear ripples through her body when the teacher snarls, his eyes appearing to turn black. “I snuck into the library and slept in one of the study rooms. There was too much noise in the house and I didn’t want to drag my friends into this. How can anybody believe I did this? James was snapped in half and suffocated while Natalie had her eyes gouged out by glass that was found lodged in her throat. Whoever did this had to be insanely strong and have cuts on their hands. Neither of those apply to me.”

“I agree, but the police have no other suspects,” Coach Warner mentions while he watches her face. Seeing her avert her eyes from the pictures, he nods his head and scrawls a barely legible note. “To answer your first question, I am here because I have some contacts with the police department. Old friends who owe me favors, but a double homicide with this amount of brutality is too much for them. Word has already spread and some people are thinking you’re a blossoming serial killer.”

Shoving the pictures away, the weeping student puts her head on the table. “I can’t believe this. Did I hate Natalie? Not really. We didn’t get along, but I only wanted her to stop bullying me. Killing her would have been a ridiculous and stupid move because of exactly what is happening now. Our problems weren’t a secret, so I’m the logical suspect. Did it ever occur to the police that she was angering other people and one of them waited until I was in a position to take the blame? I mean, we’re dealing with insane scenarios, so why not go into a full conspiracy theory? Natalie made an enemy of someone with the strength to snap her beefy boyfriend in half like a twig and then kill her with broken glass. How about it being two killers? Anybody talk to Bigfoot and Bloody Mary yet?”

“This is not the time to get angry and irrational.”

“It’s the perfect time for that!”

“Have your outburst, but I still have a question.”

“I don’t need your permission to get upset!”

Coach Warner leans back in his chair and stares at the young woman, her body quivering from fear and rage. He considers putting the pictures away, but he prefers the sight of them keeping Jennifer on edge. The man’s eyes narrow as he examines every movement and inch of her for hints that she is lying. While he doubts that she has the strength to kill James, Coach Warner can think of at least two of her friends who could work together to do the deed. As far as Natalie, he knows a thick pair of gloves would have protected the red-haired student from injuring her hands. Although, he doubts she could have accomplished such a meticulous murder without getting hurt in the struggle.

“I will see what I can do with the police,” Coach Warner finally says while attempting to soften his voice. Hating the sound and feeling phlegm in his throat, he goes back to his stern and gravely tenor. “There is only one piece of information that I need. You said that you snuck into the library, which is something administration will overlook. No sign of you on the security cameras, so I need you to tell me if anybody else was in the building. Did you see Marcy, a janitor, or even another student?”

“Didn’t even know there were cameras,” Jennifer sheepishly admits. Feeling a little more comfortable with the promise of help, she leans back and stares at the hanging lamp. “I didn’t see anybody since I didn’t want to be caught. There were voices from the basement. Not sure if they were the janitors, but I did hear Marcy. Possibly Charlene too, which was weird. To be honest, I was really tired and could have been wrong. None of them knew I was there, so I don’t think this can be of much help.”

“Actually, I should be able to work with that,” the teacher replies as he finishes his notes. He taps his fingers a few times while considering other questions. “Please go back to the sorority and wait in the lounge for one of us. Your time as a pledge will be over, but Charlene is already looking for another room. Aurora Chambers is an option since we recently learned that her roommate dropped out. We’re sorry about the delay, Ms. O’Connor. Thank you for being patient with us.”

Happy to get out of the room and find something to eat, Jennifer grabs her bag and hurries out the door. The lights flicker and start to dim as Coach Warner collects the pictures, the man taking a moment to examine each one. He licks his lips at one that shows the lopsided bed, which the police never took a second look at. Putting the folder in his satchel, he is stricken by a mild pain in his skull that rolls to the base of his spine. It takes several minutes of the sensation running up and down his back before he falls to his knees. Taking in a gasping breath, Coach Warner looks at the window that has been blackened from the outside.

“I was told that we had more time, but you are in charge,” he whispers, blood-tinted drool falling from his mouth. Scratching at his arm, he winces when he almost pulls off one of the tattooed skin patches that have been grafted to his own flesh. “Most of them aren’t ready, but things can be pushed ahead. I agree that patience is not easy to maintain. We will do what we can to increase the speed of our work. Thank you and I look forward to seeing you again. It has been far too long for all of us.”

Coach Warner waits until the aches in his body fade away before he stands, his legs shaking slightly. Keeping his eyes on the window, he backs out of the room and closes the door as softly as possible. The instant the deadbolt clicks, a flock of ebony ravens burst off the side of the building and let the sun shine into the empty lounge.

(Anybody call for a link to yesterday’s post?)

Benedictine College

Jennifer staggers down the walkway of the sorority house, her awkward movements caused by fatigue instead of alcohol. One of the sisters starts walking toward the younger woman, a joyous grin appearing at the thought of yelling at someone. She skids to a stop when her potential victim yawn so wide that the sound reminds everyone of a lion. Wavering on her feet, Jennifer rubs her eyes and makes it to the door where she nearly falls asleep with her forehead against the poster-covered wood. She slaps herself in the face and gets inside where she holds up a textbook as a sign that she was studying. Approached by two more members, she breathes in their faces to prove she has not been drinking. The mixture of soda and hot peppers nearly knocks one of them out, the other struggling not to gag. She remains in front of them until they jerk their thumbs at the staircase and go back to a paused video game.

With a lopsided smile, Jennifer takes the steps by twos and stays against the wall to avoid falling over. Making way for a group going out for the night, she gradually goes down the hallway. She pops a cough drop into her mouth as she reaches her door, a pang of anxiety striking her stomach. Putting her ear against the lock, Jennifer carefully listens for movement and voices. Hearing some shuffling and muffled words, she knocks three times and wiggles the knob to give her roommate a warning. When her neighbor steps out, she puts a finger to her lips and waves the drunken girl away. Bracing herself for the worst, the red-haired woman opens the door and walks into a situation that she has always feared.

“Dear God, you’re naked and on top of him,” Jennifer blurts out as she turns her back on her roommate. To her chagrin, a new mirror has been hung from the door and she is forced to close her eyes. “Most people put something on the doorknob or leave a note. Even so, I knocked and made enough noise to let you know I was outside. You could have at least thrown something over yourself or . . . dismounted.”

“Nothing can be done in the heat of the moment,” Natalie casually says while she gets off her nervous boyfriend. She smacks his hands when he tries to cover himself up, but he manages to pull the covers up to his neck. “Don’t be such a prude. Not like you have anything she hasn’t seen some version of. Well, I’m not done with our romantic evening. So, you either go somewhere else or try to sleep over there. Keep in mind that staying here will result in me spreading the word that you’re a voyeur.”

Unable to keep her eyes closed without falling asleep, Jennifer does her best to walk further into the room and avert her gaze. “I’m too tired to deal with this, but you’re not giving me much of a choice. Please stop being a bitch to me for tonight and I’ll give you the room tomorrow. I just want to sleep. If I go to the lounge then all the noise will keep me up and I won’t be able to get to my classes.”

“Don’t say a word because you’ve already disappointed me once tonight,” the black-haired roommate snaps, stopping her muscular boyfriend from speaking. Moving to remain in the other girl’s line of sight, she puts her hands behind her back to help push out her chest. “I don’t really care about your classes. Flunk out and let me get a single because this place would be better without you. Always practicing your lines and never let me smoke in here. I should be with my best friend down the hall, but they had to put me with you. The only way I can get rid of you is for you to quit as a pledge or as a student. Considering how much I hate you, I want you out of the school.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Because you’re annoying.”

“We’ve only known each other for half a semester.”

“And it feels like years.”

“Fine, I’ll try to sleep in the lounge. Have fun bumping herpes sores.”

Jennifer angrily slams the door behind her, which causes the mirror to fall and smash against the floor. With a victorious smile, Natalie locks the deadbolt and skips over to the bed where she yanks the covers off her boyfriend. She is about to crawl onto the narrow mattress when a cold breeze strikes her skin and threatens to calm her down. The irritated woman reaches over to turn off her roommate’s desktop fan and violently yanks the plug out of the socket. Using a scissor to cut the cord, Natalie drops the broken device in the garbage and happily skips back to the bed where her boyfriend is starting to fall asleep. A stronger blast of cold air hits her, the frigid gale giving her goosebumps and making her shiver. The blinds move to reveal the open window where a raven is calmly sitting, its back to the room.

“Get lost, bird,” Natalie hisses as she shoves the animal away. Closing and locking the window, she flips off a person outside who pulls out a camera to take her picture. “Why did you turn on the fan and open the window? We barely did anything that would make you work up a sweat. Wake up, James, because I’m not done with you.”

“Weren’t you a little too mean to her?” the young man asks while grabbing a nearby water bottle. He gets up to stretch his legs and rub his back, the cheap mattress and box spring making his muscles ache. “I know that you don’t like her, but having sex to get her out of the room might be a bit too far. Kind of tough to stay in the moment too. Not that seeing you naked isn’t helping, but I keep fearing that she’ll come back in.”

Tiptoeing to the door to avoid the glass, she closes the chain lock and rattles the knob to prove it will not open. “Even a key can’t get her back inside, so she’s gone for the night. Look, I’m really sorry about putting you in an awkward position. Let me make it up to you for the rest of the night. All I ask is that we have sex in her bed. Give me that one gift and I will make it worth your while for a month.”

“That’s why you changed her sheets,” James mutters as he wonders if he has any control over the situation. Eyeing the other bed, he notices that it looks more comfortable than the creaky one that his girlfriend was given. “My back and knees could really use a break. Not that I’m saying we stop, but the springs over here keep poking me. Do we have to tell her that we did anything? That sounds like something you could get in trouble for. I mean, me and the guys have certain rules when it comes to this. One of them is that you don’t have sex in a roommate’s bed unless you’re ready to buy them new sheets. After all, things happen when you really get into it like that time last week.”

“You’re never going to stop gloating about that one,” the black-haired woman says, a faint smile on her face. Running a finger along Jennifer’s desk, she sits in the chair and shifts until she is comfortable. “As far as I know, there is no rule against it, but I would only get in trouble if she finds out. You’d never tell her about what we’re doing because you don’t want to upset me. My back would appreciate the change too. Please, let me ride you on my roommate’s bed, which has a better bounce.”

James hesitates until Natalie licks her lips and stretches her arms over her head, a lustful look in her eyes. Unable to hold back his desire, the young man finishes his water bottle and grabs a condom from a jar. He gives a final look at his girlfriend, who shows no sign of changing her mind. As she gets to her feet, James pulls back the heavy blanket and jumps into Jennifer’s bed. The instant he lies down, the bed snaps shut with enough force to break his spine and slowly suffocate him in the soft material. His toes stick out of the top of the folded mattress, only one of them twitching.

Natalie grabs James’s flailing arm and tries to pull him free, but the limb tears off at the shoulder. She chokes back a scream out of fear of being blamed for what she assumes is a horrible accident. With people knowing about her aggression and pranks toward Jennifer, it would not be a surprise for anyone to consider she boobytrapped the bed. Her mind spiraling into paranoia and panic, Natalie drops the arm and backs to the door. The soles of her feet are sliced up by the broken mirror, the pain momentarily snapping her out of her fear. She turns around to undo the chain, but her arms shake too much for her to get it open. Backing to the middle of the room, she looks down at her bloody footprints. A burning pain runs through her body and she holds up her hand to watch a glass shard come out of her palm. Coughing up blood, Natalie feels more of the mirror pieces weave their way through her insides. Amazed that she is aware of what is happening, the black-haired woman collapses to the floor and reaches out to take her boyfriend’s severed arm. The last thing she sees is her vision splitting as two shards slowly push out through her eyes.