2.0: Nightmare Girl

CARDEN

These streets are plagued with demons. The several sets of eyes that follow our car down the road could be demons, could be human consorts. All the same. This town is going to Hell. Do I care? No, but I should. The only reason we’re here is because of her.

The nightmare girl. The sooner we find her the better we’ll all be. Maybe. The final decision on what to do with her has already been made, but it's bound to be problematic. 

The house we stop in front of is in shambles and I immediately know she’s not here. I suppress my agitation with a heavy breath. The front steps are crumbling and the shrubbery is overgrown. The windows are blocked out with ugly printed sheets. The general feeling that comes off the house is all around dreadful. Life sucking almost. Maybe she is here after all.

Oliver, the only other person I trust, leads the way to the front door. He’s always been more impromptu, rushing into things without thinking while I remain on guard, analyzing everything.  The two of our newest recruits join us and lag behind. Their cautiousness is more or less fear driven.

I’m not even sure if either of them have been face to face with a demon, but they’ve been initiated into The Order for a reason. At one point in time they thought they were strong enough to fight the never ending war against evil. We’ll see.

My fingers crush The Order given bladed baton in anticipation of the fight. I’m right behind Oliver as he barges into the house. People scatter the second the flimsy wooden door slams open. But the demons in the house attack.

Within seconds, a broad shouldered demon steps in front of me, fist soaring through the air. It’s a hard punch, I give him that. It knocks my head to the side, but it doesn’t send me skittering. When my gaze meets his, a sinister smile contorts my face.

 “It’s gonna take a little more than that.” I take my turn with a swing to his face. The gush it makes as the hard bat cracks against the demon’s jaw, the blood that spits from his mouth is success. 

He doesn’t go down as quickly as I hoped and two more come at me, but losing isn’t an option. Oliver holds his own by fighting off two or three, but the newbies barely can stand up against one demon let alone a few straggly humans that decide to fight back.

In my flash of anger and intoxication from the fight everything blurs. My fist connects with a cheekbone, my knee slams into a ribcage, my baton slams against a spine. When the fog clears there’s only The Order standing along with one lonely, pathetic human. He cowers in the corner clearly aware of how outnumbered he is.

Pathetic excuse for a human. So stupid and useless.

“Ugh, guys.”  Bentley stands in the doorway leading down to the basement.

Oliver and Greggory go down the stairs, but I stay back. I don’t need to see what’s down there. The smell is enough. So I grab the cowardly man and drag him outside by the collar of his shirt. He’s significantly shorter than me and I end up dragging him most of the way. I hate when there’s leftovers. People left from the fight. Useless garbage that turns into prisoners who need attention.

Oliver quickly meets me outside, a sharp shake of his head tells me there are no other survivors. No girl. This was just a bust on a demon house. Not the lead we’re looking for. “So we have to bring him back. We could say there were no survivors.” He’s not the one I want to haul back to the complex. 

Oliver shrugs a shoulder, nods his head with pursed lips. Easily persuaded to ditch our baggage. This has the man become a stuttering, useless food. “Wait, wait, please, I’ll do anything, tell you anything.” He pauses, wracking his brain for something useful. “There’s a girl.” The man’s words are frantic as he continues, “her and her mother were out searching the streets for their next victim a couple of days ago…last week maybe.”

Oliver and I exchanged glances. She’s close. “Go on,” I demand as I slam him against the car.

“They come around every once in a while conning people out of money. She summoned a few of those demons you killed.”

“Where is she?” I snap. My anger only doubles when he frantically shakes his head. Useless.

His hands reach out to me to grab a fist full of my shirt, but he quickly lets go knowing that his antics won’t help him be heard. “I could find her…lure her here with promises of money.” He’s panting for breath at this point, “she’s cursed by the devil, real piece of work.” His eyes are wide and wild as he recalls the nightmare girl. “She touches you and sees your fears...your nightmares and her crazy mother makes them come true. Screwed up family.”

Maybe. Truth is we don’t know much about her family. That’s not saying much considering we only know what we’ve read about her in journals from a dead soldier. Journals that talked about her being a weapon and if in the wrong hands she could bring forth destruction…Hell.

Reedus was respected,even after his death, but he never mentioned a girl that could be our downfall. We still can’t figure it out, but from the very second we found those pages, we've been searching for her, determined to do what he couldn’t. Catch her. Control her.

Maybe he was blinded by some amount of compassion he felt for her? But how can one even care for a monster in the first place?

If this man was right about the mother daughter duo, then her mother, apparently, shares the darkness that they’ve been leaching into the town.

Oliver is relishing in the lead we’ve been given. “So, where is she? Can you describe her?”

“She’s a kid. Fourteen, fifteen...I don’t know. She scares the shit outta me. Everyone calls her nightmare girl.” He speaks directly to Oliver.

Sure enough, his arms are crossed over his chest, an entertained smile on his face. He’s enjoying this, but when he catches my glare, he juts his chin out to our accompanying soldier, Bentley, giving the okay to haul him away. Sadly, we’ll be keeping the useless man for a little while longer.

I watch with pure amazement as the man struggles against his fate. A gruff puff of laughter leaves my mouth.  “A fews days? Last Week? Does he even know what day it is?” I say as Oliver steps to my side.

“He might be an idiot and it could’ve happened a month ago, but he’s got the age right. Reedus had a birthday in one of the journals. It would make her Fifteen.”

I’m left more confused than ever. If she’s as much of a threat as everyone makes her out to be than why did Reedus keep her a secret? Why not eliminate the threat? He kept extensive, very detailed tabs on her. He knew exactly where she was for years and he did nothing.

“We’ll keep eyes and ears open for their return. They might come back.” Oliver has always looked for the positive in every situation. Maybe they will be back, but when.

Two weeks pass before we hear gossip of a woman and her daughter back in West River. Oliver was right, but the strut in his step says that he already knows that. We’re three blocks down from the demon house where a woman cried bloody murder when she found her husband dead, a strange man standing over his corpse.

Oliver and I approach the woman. She’s calmed down and sits idly on the front steps, tear streaked face. Her eyes blaze with fury when we ask her what happened. “I already told the police.”

“We’re not exactly the police.” I coldly reply. “The police can’t deal with what killed your husband.”

Her eyes flash with understanding. The police probably thought she was crazy or a drug addict boasting about demons. “It was a girl and her mother. That wretched woman knew my husband lost his job and she preyed on his weakness. Bragged about how her daughter can summon an entity to do our bidding, make us wealthy or whatever we wanted.”

Oliver looks at me with that smug ‘I told you so’ look. “And?” He asks.

“And?” she shouts loud enough for the entire block to hear. “My stupid ass husband bought it and summoned something and it killed him.”

“Trusting strangers can end badly.” My words are blunt and truthful. Demons feed on the stupidity of humans. They would’ve stumbled across one with or without the girl's help.

The day they learn that they are feeble, helpless things is the day they’ll survive. The day we won’t be needed anymore. If only.

“No shit.” She hisses at us. “What are you going to do about it? Or are you going to give me the same line that the cops did? We’ll look into it.”

“We’re searching, but…we need more. Can you give us any information about where they’re staying? Did they leave anything with you or your husband? Can we have a look at some of his things?” Oliver has always been better with people than me. He gives them hope, lies straight to their faces, whereas, I tell them the devastating truth and move on.

The woman mutters about some house in the woods, which is pretty much useless. About him doing some kind of business in Harrows Hill a couple of weeks ago. Oliver stays with Greggory questioning the woman. Pumping her full of false closure while I invite myself inside. She didn’t say no or stop me as I open her front door.

The body is already gone, but the blood hasn’t been cleaned up yet. A large splotch stains the kitchen floor, red droplets speckles the cabinets. They got whatever clues their tiny heads could fathom, took the body and left the mess for a grieving woman to clean.

There’s not going to be anything worthwhile to collect where he was killed, but there could be something that was missed. I rummage through drawers in every single room, closets, cabinets. I’m about ready to give up when I decide to check the garage. There’s probably nothing, but I can’t leave without looking. So I dig through everything and that’s when I find it. A small crumpled piece of paper with an address written on it hidden in a dusty toolbox. He went to great lengths to hide this.

Stashing it in my pocket, I join the others on the sidewalk. Oliver silently questions me if I found something, but with Greggory’s eyes on me, I keep my answer short. “I think we got everything we need.”

Once locked in the car, Greggory by himself in a second vehicle, I dig out the paper. “Something worth looking into,” I tell him as I flatten it out. The address staring at both of us. I tap into my phone, pull up the map. “Sure looks like a house in the middle of nowhere, in Harrows Hill.” I flash him the phone and a smile creeps onto his face.

The whole way back to complex Oliver insists that we tell Zayne. After much persistence from him, I agree. But this feels too good to be true. Reedus died almost two years ago and this is the first tangible claim of her since.

Except we’re not the first ones to go running with information. We reach Zayne’s office to find Greggory spewing about how the nightmare girl is reeking havoc around Parker St. How the hell did he get here so fast?

He doesn’t notice our arrival. Oliver and I hang back and listen intently to his well rehearsed speech. “This is the second time in two weeks that civilians have mentioned her along with her mother. A kid that can supposedly touch someone and see their nightmares. A kid that can summon and banish demons.”

Banish? How does Greggory know this? Is this why Reedus was so obsessed with the girl?

“Carden? Oliver?” Zayne’s voice carries over Greggory. He whips around to face us, horrified that he tried to step above and around us. I can see him swallow the lump in his throat. Zayne ignores his unease. “You’re in charge of the girl. Is what Greggory is saying true? Has she recently been in West River?”

“We’re aware.” My glare lands on Greggory. “We were on our way here to tell you, we have a pretty decent lead.” I flash him the piece of paper before walking it up to him, placing it on his desk. The smile of satisfaction is directed at me and it makes Greggory’s hands clench.

“I want to be on the case. A third pair of eyes, reasonable eyes that can be helpful and instructive.” Greggory pleas.

I can see it in Zayne’s eyes, a flash of consideration. Words rush from my mouth, “she’s too important for a recruit.” Truth is, I suddenly feel territorial about her. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m not about to let a pathetic foot soldier take this away from me. There’s only four people in the complex that know of Reedus’s secret girl.

Greggory isn’t one of them.

The three of us are dismissed after Zayne states he will take it into consideration. The answer will be no as long as I have a say about it. Oliver chuckles under his breath and Greggory is hot on my heels as we leave. His small hand grabs the back of my shirt the second Zayne’s door clicks closed. Foolish human.

“What the hell?” He tries to push me against the wall, his strength is nothing compared to mine. I let him have his fun though. “This was supposed to be my case, my objective.” His finger jabs into my chest with each word.

Stepping away from the wall, I straighten my spine and look down at Greggory. “This could never be your case. She isn’t up for grabs…at least not for you.” Every fiber of my being hates the thought of him getting something he wants. Feeling as if he’s exceptional. He’s not. There are plenty of Greggorys in the world, but very few guardians.

Going back to my room seems counterproductive. We have the address to her house. I know it. My fists beat rapidly against Oliver’s door. “Care to go for a drive?” I know he’s not going to say no. Why would he?

The sooner we leave the sooner we can get back. And with Greggory not tagging along it’s already off to a better start. Unlike us, Greggory has to ask for permission to leave the complex. Foot soldier. And Zayne didn’t give the okay of him joining the mission in finding her, so technically, we don’t have to invite him.

The drive to Harrows Hill is shorter than expected. Has she been this close all along? Just on the outskirts of town?

If it wasn’t for the GPS, we wouldn’t have found the house. The driveway is a dirt road that’s overgrown and nearly invincible from the road. We park on the street and go on foot the rest of the way just in case they’re home.

That would be the best case scenario, but as we walk up the front steps, we don’t get the best case. We get the worst case. Oliver pushes the door open and the smell attacks us as a rush of flies escape the small crack.

“What the…” Oliver mutters as he steps inside.

There’s no need to look for anyone hiding. Not when there’s a dead body slumped at the kitchen table for several days if not weeks. A large hole punched through his chest. Maybe this isn’t her house. Maybe this is just another demon house.

We separate to start our search for something that places her here. I refuse to let this be a dead end. I don’t get too far into the kitchen as Oliver shouts for me. He steps out of a bedroom holding a picture in between his fingers. “I think I found out why Reedus kept her from us.”

I catch a glimpse of the words on the back before I rip the photo out of his hand. Mom and dad. “What is-” My words stop short, because the picture says it all. There’s Reedus with his arm wrapped around a woman, a small pre-teen girl between them. She’s his daughter?

Oliver ignores the red hot flush that travels through me. “They have to be on the run. Someone…something did this and they ran.”

But I don’t care who or why. My thoughts go to how. “How is this-how can she be-he’s a-” I can’t find the words.

Oliver doesn’t get angry at me ignoring him, “maybe the mother isn’t human?” Oliver replies. “Seeing one’s nightmares isn’t exactly an angelic trait.”

“And you think Reedus would get romantically involved with a demon?” I can’t wrap my mind around it. He was the best of us. And was hiding her, protecting her. Not for the world or for humanity or for the greater good, but for selfish reasons.

My hand slides down my face as I barely process what’s happening. We had no idea.

Oliver talks through my fog. “We’re not the only ones after her anymore. They’ll be on the streets, cheap motels. We’ll have to start patrolling all the shitty parts. Expand the radius. They couldn’t have gotten far. This was recent.” His voice blends with the hum in my ears. “Carden?” A hand slaps onto my shoulder, “you okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” I say staring at the picture, finally being able to put a face to the girl. “We should go.”

But before Oliver proceeds to the door, he stops, eyes on the body, “we should bury him. Keep the cops away if they come snooping.”

I groan, because he’s right. The last thing we need is the cops getting in our way. So with held breath, we each grab an end and haul him outside where we bury him in the dense forest that surrounds the house. A quick swipe of his ID gives us what we need to find out what happened leading up to this.

We leave the house bloodied, sweaty and no doubt smelling of rot. We should go straight to Zayne, but I need a shower, some rest, time to reread some of the journals. Maybe I missed something, a small clue that said just what we found out.

The following day Oliver comes to get me. We tell Zayne everything, but the truth doesn’t sit on him the same as it did for us, for me. It’s as if he already knew. He doesn’t even speak of it as he instructs us that we are to remain vigilant in finding her. The rest of the soldiers will be informed at the next meeting and all eyes will be on the lookout for her.

“We’ll find her,” he says, “we have to. She’s a weapon for us to use.” His words tell me what he plans to do with once we find her. Turn her into a soldier like her father. But is that what he would’ve wanted?

We do as we’re told. We search for her for months. Whispers of the girl only cross our ears. Demons in the vicinity instantly afterwards. Who’s tracking who? Are we unknowingly leading them straight to the girl or are we always late to the party?

The only evidence we get is security footage or still shots of a girl eerily similar to the one in the old picture. It has to be her, but before we can catch up to her all leads come to a halt. Those tiny whispers disappear and the mention of a girl who knows your worst nightmares from a single touch isn’t seen again. It’s as if her and her mother dropped off the face of the planet.