Free Psycho Thrill--Girl in the Well by Vincent Voss Page A

enter into a pact with people.”
    “But I’m pretty sure that none of the Falkners summoned him,” Henning argues.
    “Then he was awoken at the farm. Something there has been dormant all these years and was awoken. Apparently, it has possessed the … boy …”
    “Lukas,” Johanna helps out.
    “…… and has been preparing for something ever since.”
    Johanna and Henning stop short. “Preparing for something?”
    Volker nods. “Yes, I think so. And today it will come to pass. Or has already come to pass. The professor was just a blood sacrifice.”
    “What makes you think that?”
    “Today is the eighth of September. The day when Mary was born. On the seventh of September, the Devil wants to get married. Both days are among the most important days of the year for occultists. In addition to Holy Thursday, which I …” Johanna jumps up from her chair.
    “We have to go!” Henning understands, immediately throws on a jacket, and reaches for the car keys on the desk.
    “What? Where are you going?” Volker asks.
    “We’re going to the Kreuziger Farm. And you’re coming along.”
*
    September 8, 9:23 p.m., Kreuziger Farm
    Once again, Henning parks at the edge of the narrow country road. The Kreuziger Farm is unlit and lies like a deep black shadow behind the dark outlines of the trees that keep it hidden from sight.
    It’s cloudy and windy, and occasionally the light of the moon throws a pale dagger through the fast-moving clouds.
    And crickets. There’s a cacophony of chirps.. Maybe they are aware of their approaching deaths and celebrating their remaining time to the fullest.
    “There’s no one there,” Henning whispers, as they enter the farm.
    “Or she’s sleeping,” Johanna says. Volker follows them, a bit uncertain. They go to the front door. Johanna takes a deep breath and then rings the bell. The sound breaks the silence and makes them shudder. Now, standing directly in front of the house, it feels even more threatening than a few days earlier. Nothing happens. She rings again.
    “And now?” Volker asks. Henning bends down and pulls a fist-sized stone from the wall of the flowerbed.
    “What …?”
    “We have to do this, Volker,” Henning says resolutely, and throws it through the narrow window beside the door. The clattering makes them flinch and even the crickets stop for a moment. Johanna reaches through the newly formed hole and opens the door. Then she flips the light switch. Nothing.
    “Shit, the light doesn’t work,” she hisses.
    “What is that?” Henning asks. “It smells weird.” They focus on the smell in the house.
    “Blood. It smells like a slaughterhouse,” Johanna speculates, remembering it all too well from her field research on different forms of slaughter.
    “I’ll grab a flashlight from the car.” Henning runs back. They hear him open and close the car. Volker doesn’t say a word until Henning returns.
    Johanna pushes open the door and thinks she can hear flies buzzing. Henning turns on the flashlight, illuminating the large hallway.
    “There!” Johanna points to the floor tiles. There are dark spots or streaks leading from where they’re standing to the front door. They can also see the spots on the stone path from the landing. Johanna crouches, Henning shines the light on one spot.
    “It’s blood!” she whispers, as her stomach clenches.
    “We have to call the police, Johanna,” Volker practically pleads. Henning and Johanna look at him and shake their heads.
    “Later,” Henning says.
    “Mrs. Falkner!” Johanna shouts. Volker winces.
    “The temperature inside is the same as it is outside,” Henning ascertains and goes further into the hall, following the dully shining trail that leads into the kitchen. In the light of the flashlight, flies are startled out of the dark spots. The kitchen door is open. No one answers.
    “Mrs. Falkner?” Johanna cries a second time. Volker enters the hall, Henning pushes open the kitchen door and shines the