Chapter 3

Cursed be the fruit of her womb

Lenore shuffled into her English class and sat in her seat, prepared for another day of note-taking. The other students filed in, even the thirty-something albino woman everyone called, “Gwen the Ghost” or the ever popular “freak”. She took an empty seat near the front, which happened to be right beside Lenore. God. Lenore thought. I get the unfortunate luck of sitting next to the class freak. I don’t blame her. I blame the cultists. They drove her insane.

Not many people knew that Gwen utterly abhorred the Perverse cult. Twenty years ago, she was tricked into becoming their solstice offering. For nineteen of those twenty years, she hid in Dunwich Manor. The only reason she was taking college courses was because her father asked her to get a hobby.

Lenore sighed and then asked her neighbor a question. “How are the twins doing?”

Gwen sighed. “The less you know about those two, the better. Some days, I get nightmares about their… habits. I don’t need to tell you much more.” Her pallid face flushed green. I can’t tell her about them. I’m afraid she’d end up like me after knowing about their pastimes. Bathing in blood, check. Cutting themselves and letting the other drink their blood, check. Other horrific acts done in private, check. Gwen hid her face with her hands. I knew since Perverse was their father that they’d be nauseating creatures, but what they do crosses the line. She lay her hands on the desk. “Other than that, They’re okay. Both of them are juniors here at Kingsport University. One’s studying English literature, the other went into Criminal Justice.”

I never knew that; until recently I never knew they existed. Lenore checked her watch. Professor’s late again, as usual.

“Solstice Spawn aren’t like normal humans,” Gwen warned, pointing the eraser of her mechanical pencil at Lenore, “they’re horrific monsters who’ll kill anything in sight, though my children are sort of an exception to that rule. If they die, their flesh melts off the bone like candle wax. They’ll do anything to achieve what they want. Anything.”

Anything. Anything. The word echoed in Lenore’s mind. Is Gwen serious? Her kids are creepy; half the town’s afraid of the so-called Blood Brothers: Ryan and Bryan Dunwich. Are there any other Solstice Spawn out there and could they be worse than the creepy twins?

Sid opened the bottle and squeezed some of the contents into his palm. He began the arduous process of smearing it all over his skin. Twelve days till Solstice. Twelve days to find a virgin to offer to the Defiler, my father. Lord Perverse will get another tribute in that time, but who’s the lucky girl? Sid heard the distant sound of a door opening. Another victim had entered his lair. He slipped on his coat after waiting a few seconds for the lotion to dry.

Chantea entered the abandoned toy factory and looked around. Pretty abandoned. Why would a modeling agency be located here in this heap of rusting metal and dismembered dolls? Distant lights made their presence known. Now, to ask the person who runs the factory. She walked in the direction of the light, only to hear the sudden sound of footsteps behind her. She whirled around to face a mysterious stranger in a black latex suit, black boots, and a gas mask.

“Well, well,” the figure said. “Our boss has been expecting you.” The figure snapped his fingers. Chantea felt someone grab her from behind and drag her off. The latex-clad figure just laughed and followed close behind.

“What’s going on?” Chantea screamed. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” the figure said. “You’ll see… in less than a fortnight.” The figure laughed a second time and then began chanting in sing-song. “Solstice, night of fear, is approaching; it is near. One lucky girl, one horrid fate. One town to worry, ‘cuz it’s too late.” He stopped chanting once the group made it to some prison cell. Chantea heard someone unlock the door. Her captor tossed her inside the cell. “That’s right, miss. You’re our Solstice sacrifice or actually the Boss’s.” The man in the gas mask and his giant cohort walked away.

Lenore walked off to lunch in the University’s vast cafeteria. Geez, why do I get the feeling that I have to trust Gwen the Ghost Woman? She gives me the creeps. I wonder about her kids. She wandered to a table, carrying her blue lunchbox. Now where should I sit? Two young men, who looked about twenty, sat at a table, eating their lunches. They were both ghastly pale and had messy dark hair and hollow eyes. They wore identical black suits. These, Lenore knew all too well, were Gwen’s creepy twin sons.

“There’s a spot over here,” one of the twins said, gesturing toward an empty spot.

“Uh, thanks?” Lenore replied, before walking over to the table and sitting down.

The other twin turned to his brother. “She attends classes with Mother, right?” His brother nodded.

“Of course, Grandfather said she needed to spend some time out of the house,” the first twin replied. He then turned his attention to Lenore. “We solstice spawn aren’t all bad. Heck, we could be worse.”

The second Dunwich Brother, Bryan, rose one hand to his mouth, as if to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, we could have a torture chamber in our family’s basement.”

Ryan continued, “And we could waylay travelers and use our collection of medieval torture devices on them, then bathe in their blood.”

“Are you two joking?” Lenore groaned. The twins nodded in unison, smiling in a rather unnerving manner. “I hoped so.” After all the rumors I hear about these two, I hoped that they were lying. And half the rumors I hear are rather disgusting. If I knew then what I know now, I’d reject the scholarship to Kingsport. Lenore opened her lunchbox and opened a bag of potato chips. I better stop thinking thoughts like this; it’s gonna make me lose my appetite. Brookhaven, it’s a nice place to visit but to actually be a citizen is like living in a horror movie. Now all this horror flick needs is a hideous monster.