The Studio, by Dawn R. Taylor

August 5, 2014 12:15pm
Mia

“Girl, I tell you. I love the new studio but when it gets dark some strange shit happens. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like one minute I am in there jamming, painting and writing, when I get this weird feeling like I should pack up my stuff and get the hell outta dodge. I am not that easy to scare, but it gets creepy. Something happened down there. I don’t know what but whatever it was, it was serious.” Mia looked around to see if anyone else in the food court heard what she said.

Vicky laughed and said “You and that imagination of yours, you writers are a different breed. So, what, you think the studio is haunted? Tell Casper to move it along and call it a day.”

Mia whispered “Okay, laugh if you want to. But I tell you, that door is blocking something. I haven’t figured it out what yet, but there is something in there.” Mia poked at her cheeseburger. “I dunno…I’m just saying.”

“If it bothers you that much, then give up the studio. Orrr,” Vicky smiled “you can ask it what it wants.”

Mia thought about it for a few minutes and said “Ummm, not.” She swiveled in her chair. “I am not asking it anything. Besides there isn’t a damn thing I can do for a ghost, so why ask?”

Vicky laughed loud enough to make several customers look in their direction.

“Then how are you going to handle it.?”

“I don’t have a clue, but for now I am just going to leave when I am told to.”

Vicky shook her head at Mia. “You are straight out of Brooklyn and are afraid of what’s behind door number 1.”

“Ok Billy badass, you come down there with me after dark and let’s see how brave you are.”

“I am a Geechee girl from the swamps of South Carolina. We don’t play with ghost. I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be the brave one.”

Mia picked up her trash and walked over to the bin and tossed it in.

“Whatever,” escaped her lips as she rolled her eyes. “I will see you Tuesday. Where do you want to meet for lunch?”

“Timeless Treat Café?”

“Sounds good.”

The two women embraced and said their goodbyes. Mia hurried to the parking lot and hopped into her car. She headed downtown to the studio. It was 1pm and she had plenty of time before the creeps came out.

She pulled into the parking lot and was annoyed. The building next to the Studio was renovating and the trucks took up many of the parking spaces. She was sick of having to fight for a spot and God forbid she had to leave for supplies, it would take her all damn day to get another space. She parked and struggled with the large canvases bags. A shadow came over her. She looked over and there was a construction guy.

“I am Ralph. Can I help you with those?”

“Hi Ralph, I am Mia. Yes thank you.” She allowed him to take some of her bags.

When they got to the door she unlocked it and they stepped in.

“Some place you got. Do you live in here?”

“No.” Mia chuckled “it’s an Art space.”

Ralph sat the bags on the floor as he looked around and said. “You painted all of these? They are good. Are you famous or something?”

“From your lips to God’s ear, but no. I am not famous.”

3:30 pm
Willie

“See what I’m saying.” Ralph nudged Willie

“Yeah, but a woman? We’re gonna rob a woman?”

“She’s an easy mark and besides, I know those paintings are worth at least two bills each.”

Willie and Ralph walked back to the construction site after they finished their lunch under the tree in front of the Art Studio. Willie was unsure about this next job Ralph wanted to do. He didn’t think it was nice to rob a lady who was all by herself. No honor in that. He needed the money. The construction job was paying minimum wage and Sharla was constantly on him about the cost of baby food and diapers. Ralph said there was at least twenty paintings and at two hundred apiece he could buy a couple of month’s supply of diapers with his take. He needed to get Sharla off his back. When she was mad he didn’t get any sex, and his balls were heavy and they hurt.

But still, robbing a lady didn’t sit well with him. He imagined what would happen if someone broke into his house and robbed Sharla at gun point, how would he feel about that? Ralph’s problem was that he was alone in this world and he had no feelings about stuff like this. He shook his head. No honor in it at all.

“Catch.” Ralph yelled as he tossed a block of plastered wood to him.

“Damn it Ralph! Be careful.” He yelled as the block fell to the ground.

The boss looked over at them and said “This ain’t a union site fellas, don’t make me get rid of your asses. I ain’t paying for any injuries because you two fools want to play. You got me?”

Ralph gave Willie a why you wanna get us fired look and laughed.

He and Ralph had been friends since grade school. He was the youngest of eight children and had to learn how to fend for himself. When he was twelve he got hit by a car and according to folks in town he ain’t been right since. Willie guessed that’s why people were always messing with him, that and the large dent on his head.

He met Ralph by the railroad tracks a year after the accident, while he was skipping school. He didn’t like school and after the accident he didn’t go much because of the teasing. Willie spent a lot of time at the tracks or the lake. When he was alone at either place he was normal.

He was rail jumping when a voice said.

“Step on the wrong one and you will be a crispy treat for the vultures.”

“Which one is the wrong one?”

“The next one.”

“You lying.”

“One way to find out.”

He hesitated and decided not to take a chance. He walked up to Ralph and held out his hand like his father taught him and said.

“Hi, I am Willie, and you are?”

“You sound like one of those country salesman from T.V.” He laughed “I’m Ralph.” He put his arm around Willies neck and said “Let’s get outta here before you kill yourself.”

They had been friends ever since.

August 10, 2014
5:00pm
Mia

Mia looked up at the clock. She didn’t want the ghost hour to catch her unprepared. She hated the uneasiness that came with the hour. The front door to the studio opened and David yelled as he entered.

“Hey, it’s me, David. Everything okay in here?”

“Hey David, I’m good. What’s up?”

He appeared puzzled and asked as he pointed at the door in the rear of the studio “I was wondering, did you put that lock on my storage space? I needed to put some stuff in there on Saturday and could not get in.”

Mia burst out laughing. “Oh my, I forgot to text you. I am so sorry. Yes I did that, but I left the combination stuck to the back of the lock.”

David’s confused expression demanded a little more explanation.

“That area behind the door gives me bad feelings. So I locked it.”

David looked bewildered. “Have you been behind the door?”

“No, something is back there and I feel better having a lock on it.”

“Didn’t you spend like 10 years in the army?”

“Yes, I can pick you off at 460 meters with my weapon, but behind that door… I tell you it’s creepy.”

David enjoyed a hardy laugh and said “Well then can we compromise? How about we just hang the lock in the latch unlocked, this way it’s still blocked and nothing can get out and I can get in without fighting with a locked lock.”

“Sure, no problem.”

David walked back to the front door of the studio stopped and said. “I should show you what’s back there so you don’t feel funny about that area.”

Mia stopped in her tracks, the thought of it made her gasp.

“Oh, no. No David that is unnecessary. No tour is needed,” she said as she walked with him to the open front doors. She didn’t want him to turn around with any more bright ideas that involved opening that door while she was present.

Once she got rid of David, she ran back over to the computer to finish the last two pages of the chapter. She typed with an urgency, knowing that the ghost hour was approaching. She typed the last two words in the sentence, and then she packed up her bag and knocked over her soda. She looked at the clock and the puddle. It was still warm out and she didn’t want ants infesting the studio. She put her bag down, ran to get a roll of paper towel and wiped up the soda. Mia tossed the paper towel into the garbage and knew she was too late. She saw movement in her peripheral vision, just passed her right side. Mia refused to look at it. She wondered if it knew that she knew it was there. She inhaled and looked over her right shoulder. There was nothing there. Vicky was right, she was too damn dramatic. She picked up her bag off her desk and headed for the door tripping over a can of paint.

“Shit!” She looked around the studio hopping on one foot. She knew that can was not there before and said “Yeah, whatever,” to whatever was listening.

9:00pm
Willie

“So, do you understand what I am saying?” Ralph said as he sat at the kitchen table.

“Well…” Willie hesitated. “I suppose. I just don’t understand why we can’t go in when she is not there. I ain’t feeling easy about robbing a lady. What if something happens? I mean, what if something goes wrong? What if she gets hurt or something? Then we got real trouble. I can’t afford real trouble. Sharla would kill me.”

Ralph bit into his sandwich and shook his head in disgust.

“Stop over thinking it,” he said. “Fine, we can go in later. But that means you have to find a pair of bolt cutters. How you gonna to get out the house? Your woman has you on a short leash, especially at night.”

Willie thought about it for a minute. “I will think of something. They have some bolt cutters at the Walmart Sharla works at.”

Willie picked up the crying baby. He rocked him as he paced back and forth. Sharla came out of the bedroom just as he was getting ready to speak. He closed his mouth and smiled at Sharla. She stopped, looked at Willie and then over at Ralph.

“I don’t know what the hell you two are up too, but babe, don’t let this one talk you into some shit that will get you put out.” She pointed accusingly at Ralph as she talked at Willie. Sharla rolled her eyes at Willie and kissed the baby on the top of his head.

“Stay outta trouble, I will be off shift round midnight.”

As soon as the door closed Ralph hopped up off the stiff kitchen chair and made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked toward the door he said “Mannn, whatever” and waved Sharla off from behind the locked door.

“She acts like I am always up to something. That ain’t right. I’m just looking out for ya’ll.”

Willie rocked his son on his shoulder. He loved this kid and there were times he could believe it was his. Ralph told him to get a DNA test to be sure, but he didn’t have too, the kid looked just like the picture of his 80 year old grandfather.

“Willie! Willie are you listening?”

“Shhhhh. He’s about to nod off,” he said as he walked the baby toward the back of the house.

He returned after leaving his son in his crib.

Ralph had a pen and pad and wrote down a list of things they needed for the job. Willie had to chuckle, Ralph loved stealing way too much. The only time he saw Ralph get giddy was when he was planning a job. He clipped the baby monitor to his belt and went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich.

Ralph followed him in and sat at the table. “Can you think of anything else we will need besides the bolt cutter?”

After taking a bite of the sandwich Willie mumbled, “Nope.”

“Alright then. I am gonna borrow Mario’s truck. It should be able to hold all the stuff.”

Willie got up, put the dishes in the sink and looked at Ralph before he said,

“I can’t afford to do another stint in prison, Sharla already told me if I go in again she is done. So let’s get in and out. I wouldn’t even be doing this with you but I’m desperate. My l’il man in there needs things, so I will ride this train with you but after this I am done Ralph. I need to set an example for Jr.”

Ralph nodded. “I gotcha man.” He patted Willie on the back as he walked by. He grabbed the knob of the backdoor in the kitchen and said. “I’’ll be here at six thirty. Please be ready and outside. I hate to honk and have to see Sharla’s pissy face boring a hole through my head from the window.”

August 15, 2014
9:00am
Mia

Mia stood in the center of the large room. Its floor was concrete and its walls made of brick. She took a mental inventory of her space. She scanned all the pictures on the walls and the drafting table to the front left. She looked over at her writing desk. It was messy and that made her confused. It was the one place in the studio that she kept in order. She squinted as she looked at the lock on the front door, it was still locked. Her couch cover was askew and the magazines were in one great big tall pile instead of laid out across the many end tables.

She was uneasy. Had she moved the stuff and forgotten? Had David come in over the weekend and moved things to get to the back storage area? She took six steps and leaned to the right so she could see into the other room. She saw the refrigerator door wide open and the glass from the overhead light was broken.

Someone glided by her left side. She turned so quickly that she lost her breath and her eyes were left staring at the damn door. She hated that door because she knew it was a door to some other place. David could make all the excuses about that damn door all he liked; he could even make fun of how she was the wussiest soldier he ever met. But Mia decided she would rather be a breathing wuss than a dead tough girl.

She stood still and quiet not wanting to bring any attention to herself. She listened for another second before she heard the crash behind the door and that was enough. She walked briskly over to the drafting table, picked up her backpack and purse. She remained as calm as she could knowing fear would bring whatever it was closer. She put her phone in her pocket and turned to her left and walked to the door. She reached for the knob when warm wet air tickled the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Let me go and I promise I won’t be back.” She didn’t bother to wait for a reply. She pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind her. She locked it and bolted to the parking lot. She tripped and dropped her back pack. A construction guy came over to help but she waved him off saying “I got it, I got it.” She didn’t breathe again until she was safely in her car. She sat there staring at the door of her dream studio then she dialed a local moving company.

August 15, 2014
9:00pm
Willie

“Ralph?” Willie’s voice trembled in confusion. “Oh shit!””

“What?” Ralph said as he squinted.

“RUN!” Willie yelled as he dropped the rusty gadget and ran as fast as he could. The door was less than thirty yards away. The muscle in his right leg burned and stung. He grabbed his right thigh and tried to hold it together, it was falling apart. All he had to do was clear the storage room door and he would be okay.

A light flooded the area in front of him and then darkness, Ralph must have made it into the Studio. Willie knew by the brief illumination he had a clear path to freedom. The burning sensation shot up the bottom of his stomach. He did a weird gallop and imagined he looked like an injured Clydesdale. Oh a Budweiser, a beer right about now would be great and he would get one as soon as he got outta here. He and Ralph would have a laugh about this later and he wouldn’t steal anything else, ever again.

It was Ralph’s stupid idea to rob this Studio. The next step brought him to his knees and then down on his left side. He promised God that he would straighten up if he got out. He rolled and was up on his feet in a flash. The door was right there. Two or three more strides and he could reach out his hand to grab the knob, but a hot tearing sensation ripped through his navel.

He stopped and looked down at his stomach. The soft flexible fleshy nub that protruded from his right side confused him. He wanted to call out for Ralph, but there was no wind in his lungs. It was quiet and warm. Willie placed his right hand over the nub and his left hand held the door knob, he relaxed his shoulders and exhaled, he was home free.

Suddenly he was yanked and was flying backwards through some sort of tunnel, this must be what folks meant when they talked about dying. It wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be. He was grateful when his body stopped moving. Somehow it all made sense as he laid there on the damp cool floor. He smelled mildew, a rotten dank mildew. He opened his eyes and there it was, right there, two inches from his face. Its hot breath stinging his pupils, invading his nostrils and pulling the moisture out of his skin.

His lips were dry and the heat made them crack. The hot air breached his lips, traveled down his throat and infested his lungs. He wanted to push it out but he had no air of his own. Something sticky slithered up his left arm, across his shoulder and rhythmically tapped the vein in his neck. He suspected he was dying and was eager to see his mom, dad and gram. Willie waited for the angel to come and take him onto glory, to meet his lord and savior.

He welcomed heaven with all its beauty and imagined it had the aroma of cookies, like the chocolate chip cookies his mom used to make. He hoped he would be welcome there, in the cookie and family filled heaven

The thing on his neck moved back and forth and Willie realized it was tasting him. Oh God, he thought it’s going to eat me. Panic rolled around inside his head like a small rubber band ball bouncing off the sides of his brain. He prayed that it would not hurt when it bit into him or at least not too much. Instantly, he thought about the time when Ralph dared him to eat a shrimp alive and he realized he should not have done that.

16 August 2014
4:00am
Willie

Willie wasn’t sure how long he had been laying there. He knew he had been moved, but the pain was so great that he was sure he had passed out a time or two. He could feel bits and pieces of his lower body. Some parts were so cold that they hurt. Other parts were just numb. He tried to move his left arm, but was unsuccessful. He turned his stiff neck so he could look at his arm hoping he could will it into movement. His neck was thick and heavy and the back of his head was stuck in some muck. It was painful and his scalp ripped some. He was finally able to move it a little bit with the help of a grunt, he was grateful it was enough to allow him to catch a glimpse of his arm. He began to sob. His arm had been mutilated.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to get up and run. He wanted so many things, but mostly he wanted not to be here. He stared at his arm, what was that? Something had burrowed into his skin and branched out like the tree in back of Grams house. His arm was swollen to three times its normal size. Whatever it was had branched all the way up to the side of his neck. Oh God, it was moving. He sobbed more. He watched through tear filled eyes as the thing moved beneath his skin.

“If you are busy being in a panic then you are not busy thinking.” Grandma told him as she washed the blood from his brow after his first childhood fight. “You have to be smarter than your opponent and that requires all of your brain muscle.”

The subtle snake-like movement of the thing at his neck shifted him from his thoughts. He tried not to panic and to keep his wits about him. He wondered if he could move, roll over and somehow tear off his arm like the guy in the movie did with his stuck leg. He was able to wiggle his torso some. He tried to roll his body from side to side. There was something wrong with his clothes, they were stuck, like the back of his head. When he tried to turn his head he heard his hair popping from being pulled out, and his scalp ripped away from his head even more and this time he yelped. The thing twitched and slithered beneath his ribs down to his hip. Good Lord, it’s all over his left side. It pulsated and rotated, moving a little further down his leg. Then, things went from bad to worse. There was a stinging or biting him near his private parts. He realized every time he moved, it moved. How was he going to get out of this? How was he going to think his way out of this fight? He wished his grandmother was here. She would know exactly what to do.

“Pray Willie, which is first and foremost. God will give you whatever you need to wrestle whatever demon you are fighting.” Willie closed his eyes said a little prayer and yanked his right arm up off the sticky shit.

He didn’t know a person could sleep with their arm up. Maybe he didn’t fall asleep but passed out instead. He was glad to see that his right arm was okay. It was okay except for the purple blackness that took over his hand and forearm. He gasped, there was something in his pants. He tried to stay very still not wanting to encourage whatever it was. Shit, there was more than one. The whole situation was more than he could bear, and he began screaming.

5:00am
Police Officer

The police officer opened the door and allowed his eyes to adjust. He was looking for a guy who might be hurt in there. The other loser was caught running from the scene after an officer responded to a silent alarm and took him downtown. It wasn’t until they booked him that he said there was a second guy who might be hurt.

“Hello! Hello?” He looked back at the other officer and shrugged his shoulders. He stepped inside and used his flashlight to sweep the area of the large room. He saw the light switch and turned on the dim light. They cleared that room and opened the door in the back of the studio. He used his flashlight to maneuver the narrow pathway of the cluttered basement area. It reminded him of those people on the hoarder TV shows. The clutter was at least 6 feet high with several narrow pathways. Almost all the way to the back he saw a man lying on the floor.

“Over here!” he waved his slower partner over. And they went over to the poor fool.

He knelt down to check the man, unsure if he was alive. The guy was staring up at the celling, mouth twisted, eyes open with the pupils quickly shifting from side to side.

“Get the paramedics in here!” the cop shouted.

He walked the cramped space trying to see what could have put this guy in such dire straits. He was obviously beat up, but there wasn’t anything around him that could account for such a beating.

The paramedics rushed in, one quickly assessed the guy on the floor and said, “Give me the collar.” to his partner.

The paramedic was very careful when he placed the C-spine collar on his neck and attached EKG leads on the guy’s battered dirty chest. After securing his neck they rolled him and were surprised to see a glue rat trap stuck to the back of his head. When he tried to remove it the EKG machine went insane. He decided to let the doctor’s deal with it, this guy was in bad shape. His left arm was cut and infected. The gash was raised, red and warm to touch. A second gash was located on his left inner thigh. There was obvious bug and rodent activity around the wound.

They rolled him again to put him safely on the gurney and some of his clothes were sticky and wet. The paramedic noted the smell of sweat and urine. He tugged lightly and the clothes were freed.

They walked the man out of the cluttered sub-basement in the studio and a picture swung back and forth about to fall. The cop who was right behind the paramedics stopped it from swinging and hung it back in its place. He took a closer look at old time picture. There was a man and a woman standing in front of a funeral home. The address was where they were called to. Shit, he thought, this place used to be a funeral home. He looked back once again and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He shut the door and followed the paramedics out of the basement and to the ambulance. They loaded the Willie into the ambulance. The paramedic that sat in the back with Willie said.

“You’re okay, we have you now.”

8:00am
Willie

Willie opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed in hopes whatever it was would be scared away when he realized he was no longer in that hell hole. He tried to get a grip on reality and figure out where he was. He was in the hospital. He took a deep breath, tried to sit up but he was stopped by a pair of handcuffs. He yanked at them. He looked around and saw the cop at his door.

“Shit!” he said under his breath.

It was over. He was going back to jail and Sharla was gonna leave him. He shook his head. Where the hell was Ralph? Did it really matter? What the hell was in that storage area? He knew deep down what in there. He saw it and he was glad it had given him a second chance at doing the right thing. He was angry at himself for following Ralph and probably losing his family. He was done. No more stealing for him. All he wanted to do was do whatever time he was given and hopefully go home to his family.

My name is Dawn R. Taylor. I am a writer. I write fiction, erotica and horror. When I am not writing I paint. I am an abstract painter and have a studio downtown Durham called Artistically Speaking. I am married and have a son.

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