It's been several days and as the Lady of Wight began visiting her victims every night, tensions have been growing between the group of friends, especially Maria and Antonio. They've been at each other's throats since the dreams were planted into their subconscious, and James and Amanda had been arguing as well. Maria had gotten to the point of breaking up with Antonio for accusing her of cheating on him with William. Amanda had
On the other side of the state, Fisher had been doing his best to find a local translator to begin his research. He had scored well with this one lady who went by the name of Estrella Aguilera, a small college scholar from Reynosa who is currently staying in Camargo for the summer. She was a short lady with long brown hair and those earthly brown eyes in her mid-twenties studying to have her degree in English so she can move to the States and teach the bilingual students there. She did have her eyes on Rio Grande City.
Fisher had been sitting in his Carhart coat sitting the restaurant where he had agreed to meet Estrella. "So, what brings you to our little town of Camargo, Mr. Fisher?" Estrella asked before sipping from her Abuelita chocolate flavored coffee.
"Well, Miss Estrella," Fisher began attempting to pronounce her way as she had pronounced it.
"Please," Estrella interrupted him. "Call me Star. It'll be easier for you." After chuckling at the way that Fisher had pronounced her name, she gave him a warm smile.
"Oh, ok, Star," Fisher responded. He had to admit he was a little annoyed because he could never get Spanish right. "Well, as I've mentioned in my email before, I needed someone to help me translate to the locals because my Spanish is horrible as you've heard." Fisher chuckled.
Estrella laughed. "Yes, I can agree with you on that." She had a mannerism of covering her mouth when she laughed, Fisher noted. "Well, I'd be glad to help you out with that. Is there anything else that I can help you out with while you're here? What are you investigating if you don't mind me asking?"
"No, that would be it, and well, I'm researching something called the Lady of Wight from what my friends call it. One of them told me that I'd find out something about it here."
Estrella frowned. "Well, you've come to the right place," she tried to force a smile. "There are many legends, but none of the scare me as much as that."
"Do you know anything about it?"
"Probably what you already know; your attached email mentioned many accurate things."
"Yes, I had been meaning to ask you about that. Do you think that the woman that spoke to my friends is lying?"
Estrella recoiled slightly. "I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't answer to you honestly, Mr. Fisher. The woman, though old and delusional as your friend seems to believe, is actually telling the truth. Everything that she speaks of the, what did you call her, Lady of Wight? Yes. She speaks the truth of her." Estrella spoke, though a thick accent that clearly showed she was from Mexico, clearly and sophisticatedly.
"So what you're telling me is true?" Fisher leaned forward and crossed his fingers together. "Now, ma'am, I don't mean to be rude, but to me the whole situation sounds like bullshit to me." Fisher was sitting back now with his arms crossed.
"Yes, I don't blame you at all for not believing, Mr. Fisher, it does sound rather far fetched, but what I do know is that the lady speaks true of what she's seen. The woman, Angelina, was murdered in this town many years ago. I don't believe that I was even born at the time." Estrella took another sip of her coffee. "What I do know is that Angelina was murdered when she was just a teenager, and in her greif and anger she called up on the Aztec God, Mictlantecuhtli, and now she dares to have her vengeance against all of man for betraying her, or so the story goes."
"What about this little girl that everyone sees? What's that business about?"
"Her little sister, Teresa, from what I hear, was such a precious little girl. She was loving and always filled with joy, but when the Cartel got a hold of her, she was tortured and raped by them."
"Jesus Christ," Fisher shuttered. How the fuck could someone do that to such an innocent little girl? Fisher shook his head and took a bite out of his barbacoa tacos. The pain was intense as the spicy green salsa flooded his taste buds. He nearly flinched, and as he did, Estrella couldn't help, but chuckle at that. "So do you think there's any way to stop it?"
"I don't know, if I'm being completely honest with you, Mr. Fisher." Estrella shook her head. "From what I hear, there's no stopping the Lady of Wight, no matter the cost. You can push her away, one day at a time, by constantly helping her little sister in the dream, but there never will be a way to truly get rid of her. Why do you ask? Have you seen her?"
Fisher shook his head, almost shocked with himself that he was asking these questions. "No, I haven't seen anything or had any sort of dream that might be related to any form of ghost story that anyone's recited to me, but my friends claim to have had these strange dreams about a little girl in an open field."
"Did they say anything about what happens towards the ending of the dream?"
"Well, yeah. My friend James said that there was a swarm of wind, followed by a large amount of black butterflies, then he woke up. Maria claims that she's had dreams of our deceased friend, though she won't mention anything other than he was laying in bed watching TV. Mandy claims that she falls and breaks her leg towards the ending and wakes up screaming. I haven't talked to my friend Tony, and his girlfriend. They've been really distant from us since…" Fisher sighed. "Since our friend passed away not too long ago. I don't blame Maria for being distant. They were best friends, but Tony, I'm not sure; he hasn't responded to any of my messages." Fisher felt his eyes begin to water. Every time that he thinks he's starting to feel better, he always brings up Will and then, the structure that he had been building up for the last several days, or hours, will come crumbling back down.
"Oh." Estrella recoiled slightly. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Fisher. I didn't mean to stir any bad emotions."
"No, no," Fisher wiped his eyes with the towel. "It's the spices of the taco," he joked.
Estrella chuckled slightly. "Very well, Mr. Macho. Before we start your investigation, Mr. Fisher, though I do enjoy your company, let's talk about payment for my services, shall we?"
"Of course, of course," Fisher smiled. "Money isn't a concern at the moment." He wasn't sure why he had reassured her of that, but he was determined to find out what was going in his town, and he wanted his friends to be protected from whatever is causing them distressed. If he were being completely honest with you, dear reader, Fisher would have told you that he wanted to make sure that this Lady of Wight business was just caused by the stress of loosing their friends. However, when Fisher decided to consider the fact that James has suddenly become almost borderline obsessed with the whole story of her, having sent him hundred of articles that could be possible hits about the whole thing. And Mandy…sweet, sweet little Mandy. She wasn't taking any of this that well, either. Night Terrors? That wasn't like her. And Maria and Tony…Well, he just hoped that they were doing alright as well.
It was true that Fisher had not been there to see how William twitched and snapped in every direction when he died, but honestly, he wouldn't have wanted to witness that, and then to try and save him, only to be smacked across the face, knocked unconscious like the doctor who tried to help William, would be the most heartbreaking thing that he could experience. Now, Fisher didn't even know what he was doing 5 hours south of Bleak Park. If anything, he should be back at work, figuring out what happened to Danny Baker's folk, and solve that case instead of this strange fascination that he's developed for something that might or might not exist.
James had been spending a lot of time by himself lately. Not by himself, per say, but he'd been spending a lot of time on his computer researching more deeply into that ghost of terror. There were stories that he's uncovered around town that were rather disturbing. Like the one of Billy Turner, now that was a gruesome horror story, if he was being honest with himself.
As James sat there scrolling on his computer with the lights off, and the blinds closed, he read furiously on Billy Turner's story published by the Bleak Park Press.
January 8th, 1967
BOY FOUND DEAD IN PARK WAY
As the Day of the Three Kings festival continues it's final day, the sunday morning was suddenly filled with havoc and dismay as the body of Billy Turner had been uncovered floating face down in the Park Way Channel. Lindsy McDonald had been walking along side the channel with her family when her daughter, Darling McDonald, ran towards the channel and found Billy Turner's body over turned int he channel. Police were immediate to retrieve the body out of the dark water channel.
According to an autopsy release to the public by medical examiner, Dr. Jacob Lee, of the Bleak Park Research and Medical Analysis Group, Billy Turn had been drown and beaten before death, however what was even more terrifying were the following words that Dr. Lee mentioned.
"We knew that he had been beaten and then drowned, that was evident, however, when we first saw him, I honestly thought that he had been sucked dry, like mosquito. Human bodies don't shrivel up like that in water. His skin almost felt like…paper…It was so dry."
A knock on the door made James jump. His thought had been focused on the Lady of Wight. She never seemed to leave his mind. God damn ghost will give a heart attack in my sleep if I'm not careful. James sighed and walked over to the door before opening it. Why would someone be up at this time of night?
James swung open the door to find Amanda there, streaks of what appeared to be mascara running down her cheeks. "Mandy?"
She let herself in, pushing past James. "I'm sorry for not calling ahead, but I can't fucking sleep anymore James!"
"Whoa, whoa, honey, what's going on?" James closed the door and sat next to Amanda on the bed, where she had take up residence.
"I just can't sleep anymore. She's always on my mind!"
"Whoa, lower your voice, Mom and Dad will hear you." James warned softly, raising his hands, but James didn't understand the severity of Amanda's fear.
Amanda, to say the least, was a mess. Her long beautiful black hair was now in a crow's nest, and the way the grease glistened in the light only assured James even further that she wasn't even comfortable enough to shower at home. Her long red shirt that she normally to bed was stained with different remains of food, and as the monitor's blue silver light, he noticed something…red on Amanda's legs.
"Jesus Christ, Mandy! Are those cuts on your legs?!" James took her hands in his.
"No, no!" Amanda shook her head. She almost couldn't believe what James had just suggested. "They're scratches," She ended up snapping at him.
James took a back. Amanda has never snapped at him before.
Shame swept over Amanda, her eyes changing from scowling almonds to whimpering ones. "I'm sorry James." She looked down to her legs, the red markings on her thighs more prominent than she had hoped. They did look like cuts, but they were merely skin burns that she had carved into her thighs earlier that morning. Amanda couldn't sleep, not with those eyes staring back at her, every single night. Ever since she had the dream of the little girl, she didn't realize that it would lead to this.
"What's going on? You've been acting strange since we talked to that one old lady." James pulled her chin with his thumb and pointer finger. When Amanda was looking into his eyes, James brought her in for a kiss. "Tell me what's wrong, love."
Amanda watched as the softness filled James' eyes. She couldn't help but admire how handsome he has turned out to be over the last few years of their relationship. Hell, she remembered him in high school, a simply little computer nerd with a thing for computers and cheerleaders. If things weren't so dire, she might've smiled at that; hell, she would've married him on the spot, if he'd just man up and ask her already. "I think I'm going to die, James."
"What," James sat up. "Don't say something like that! You very well know that's not going to happen."
Amanda grimaced at James' ignorance. She sighed. He doesn't know… "James…My love…I need to tell you something, just promise me that you won't freak out."
James watched as Amanda pulled her hair back and tied it in a messy bun. The silver light gleaming against her pale skin. "I'll be as supportive as I can, hon'."
Amanda sighed one more time and told him abut the dream that she had. Tears began to swell in her eyes and she told him about the part where she just looked up into the canopy and watched as the life drained from her, and how cold and how awful the whole experience was. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "That's why I think I'm going to die, James."
James had to admit…he was a little shocked, but that inner cynic was begining to arise inside of him. "You can't serious believe that has anything to do with the Lady of Wight?"
"I think it has everything to do with her, yes." Amanda looked out the window, through the thin curtains, a sense of dread sweeping over her, as if someone was watching her through those curtains. The hairs on her back and neck stood up in session, sending a cold shiver up her back. "I can't write anymore, James."
"What do you mean, you can't write anymore," James fists began to close.
A tear slid down Amanda's cheek. "My love, I can't write poetry anymore. This lack of sleep is too much to bare. I tried writing a few, and the dead line for my new book is due in a month, and I have yet to write a single poem."
"What are you saying?" James couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't be giving up because some ghost story has got you spooked!"
Amanda just sighed. "You've been looking it a lot lately, James. Tell me James," Her voice began to firm a little. "What did that lady say in the library?"
James looked to his feet. "The one's who don't help the little girl die."
"Now, I don't know about you, but call me dumb if your little research binging has nothing to do with you trying to disprove this ghost story."
She was right, and James knew it. He spend so long on the Internet trying to figure it out, figure out whether or not this Lady of Wight was just another ghost story. "Alright, I'll be honest, I have."
"You saw what I saw that day." The memory and wounds of Will were still clear as day in her mind. "I thought what I was seeing things, but the way that Will's arm snapped when he smacked that doctor across the room…" Amanda grabbed her temples. "Oh, my fucking god!" She tried not to scream through her frustration. "How could someone do that?! It isn't fucking human!"
James immediately pulled her in a held her tightly. "Shhh…shhhhh." James stroked Amanda's dark hair, the drops of tears pecking at his chest as Amanda's sobbed began to fill the silver light filled room. Sob…sob…sob…How James' wished for such a luxury. He had to keep his composure and be strong for her. Amanda…needed someone to be there for her.
"I see them everywhere…" Amanda continued shortly after the a few more minutes in the computer fan accompanied silence.
"See what?" James looked down to her.
"I was lost in the woods, James…And the trees kept me away from you…For she brought the plague…and the butterflies…"
The butterflies?! James' heart rate shot up and it was then that he remembered that those dark winged insects…were following him as well.