Sarah Bishop (standard:horror, 3731 words)
Author: M. Richard Smith	Added: Mar 22 2004	Views/Reads: 3597/2310	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young man's past activities return unexpectedly to change his life.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

"No, but I know who you are. I was here last November visiting a friend,
and I saw you in Streetcar. I thought you were great in that play." 

"Well, thank you. And you are?" 

"Sarah. Sarah Bishop." 

"So who's your friend? Maybe I know him." 

"Her." 

"Okay, maybe I know her." 

"Laura Davis." 

"Who?" 

"Laura Davis. She was in the play with you." 

"Oh yeah, Laura. She was a nice kid. She was great. I mean...very
talented. I wonder how she's doing." 

Laura Davis was the last thing he wanted to talk about and he really
didn't care how she was doing. Throughout the fall semester of the 
previous year, Laura had been his leading lady both on and off the 
stage. She was talented in many ways. In addition to being an excellent 
actress, she was an utterly beautiful and intelligent girl who, 
unbeknownst to him at the time, had tested her way out of high school 
early. Laura was physically mature far beyond her sixteen years and 
easily passed herself off as much older. Ryan had never thought of 
asking Laura's age, this was college after all, and by the time he 
found out, he had slept with her many times. As great as the sex was 
and no matter how willing she was to try new things in the bedroom, it 
still wasn't worth going to jail for, so he broke off the relationship. 


Laura was devastated by the break up and became irrational. She stalked
him, following him everywhere he went. He soon began to receive 
telephone calls, often in the middle of the night, where the caller 
would not say a word. He determined that the calls were coming from her 
after installing a caller ID box on his phone line. 

Ryan met with Laura face to face and told her again that it was over
between them and that he was not going to play her little games. She 
still would not leave him alone. Ryan did the only thing he could think 
of and purposely started acting cruel towards to her. He would flirt 
and show affection to other girls, often right in front of her as if 
she didn't even exist. Laura left school and never returned. The phone 
calls stopped around the same time. 

Ryan had felt a little bad about the way he had treated her, but the
relief of not having her around to damage his reputation quieted those 
feelings. He had not seen or talked to her since. Several weeks into 
the spring semester, he started receiving strange calls again. They 
were less frequent and instead of silence, there were often noises in 
the background. Sometimes it would be a slamming door or a muffled 
conversation. Other times it was a faint sound of a baby crying. He 
thought it might be Laura again, but could not be sure, as the display 
on the caller box would simply show: 'CALLER ID BLOCKED'. 

"Actually, she's a little whacked out, if you ask me." She said. “We
used to be pretty close, but then she changed. It got to the point 
where I couldn't stand to be around her anymore. Nobody could.” 

Ryan changed the subject, wondering if this girl knew about their
relationship. "So, tell me, what brings you here? I mean, you just 
don't seem like all the others, coming in here with stars in their eyes 
and dreams of moving to New York or LA to be discovered. There's 
something different about you. You just seem so much...” 

“Older?” She chuckled. 

“Actually, I was going to say, more mature. Listen; maybe I can buy you
a cup of coffee after class? We can talk and get to know each other 
better?" 

"I can't, I have to take care of something.” Sarah checked her watch.
“In fact, I'm already late and really can't even stay for this class." 
She stood and began to walk away. “I'd better go before the instructor 
gets here and sees me leave.” 

"Ok, well maybe some other..." 

"But I've got a better idea." She opened her jacket, showing off a shiny
silver flask protruding from the inside pocket. "Maybe we can not talk 
and still get to know each other better." 

"Oh...uhm...yeah...that'll work." He was caught slightly off his guard. 

“Let's say four o'clock, in front of the main entrance?” She winked. 

"Alright, four it is. I'll see you then." Ryan watched her as she exited
the room. He smiled to himself, looking forward to the afternoon 
interlude. Maybe the semester wouldn't suck after all. 

*** 

Ryan looked up at the clock tower of the ivy burdened brick building. It
was 4:10pm and Sarah was late. He wondered if she might have stood him 
up. If she had, it would be the first time anyone had since he was in 
high school. She wouldn't have, would she? He supposed it was possible, 
after all, he didn't know much about her, except that she used to be 
friends with the one person he was glad was out of his life. 

The area in front of the school was busy, as it always was at that time
of day. Students and faculty rushed about to avoid the daily traffic 
jam in and out of the only paved parking lot on campus. Ryan was 
deciding whether to wait another five minutes when she arrived. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I was buried in errands." Sarah had changed her
clothes and was wearing a pair of worn out blue jeans and a pale green 
hospital scrub shirt. "I hope you don't mind that I changed. I was 
getting cold." 

"Mind? Why would I mind?" He masked his slight disappointment. "What
about that drink you promised?" 

"Sure, but not here. This place is a madhouse. Come with me." She took
his hand and led him through the parking lot, stopping behind a 1969 
midnight blue Chevy Camaro SS. "Here we are." 

"You're kidding, right? This is my all-time favorite car." He was
genuinely excited. "Wow, this is a sweet machine." 

"Thanks. I stole it myself. And please be careful not to drool all over
my baby." 

"Man, you're a regular comedienne." 

"Not guilty on both counts. I am not a 'man' and I am certainly not
'regular'." 

"No, I guess you're not." 

"I'm jus a widdle gurl." She said as they each got into the car. 

"Yeah, I know, but just how little are we talking about?" He picked up a
baby's pacifier from the passenger side floor and held it out to her. 

"Oh, that's not mine...and no, I do not have a kid. It belongs to a
friend, well actually her daughter." Sarah tossed the pacifier onto the 
back seat then turned the key, cranking life into the powerful 350 
horsepower engine. It was sweet music to his ears. "Would you like to 
go for a ride?" She touched his leg, rubbing it softly. "Maybe later, 
I'll even let you drive." 

"Sure, let's go! Where to?" 

"Shh...” Placing a finger to her lips, she whispered, "to a secret place
I know." 

She turned out of the parking lot in the opposite direction to the other
traffic and handed him the silver flask. He held it under his nose and 
took a deep whiff. 

"Wow, is this Southern Comfort? I haven't had this stuff since..." He
stopped himself before bringing Laura Davis into the conversation again 
and took a big swig of the bittersweet concoction. He tried erasing her 
from his mind. "Whew!" He exhaled heavily. "Did you add salt to this? 
It tastes different than I remember." 

"No. I just opened it and poured it in there. It should be fine." 

Ryan took another drink. "Here, it's your turn." He offered the flask to
her. 

"No, you go ahead." She smiled. "Knock yourself out. I never drink and
drive at the same time...because I wouldn't want to spill. Just make 
sure you save me some." 

He took another sip. The warm liquor was syrup-sweet, with a strong
aftertaste. After just a few drinks, a numbing sensation coated his 
throat and he began to feel dizzy. Alcohol was nothing new to him, but 
he could not recall ever feeling such effect so quickly after drinking 
so little. "This stuff is potent. I think I'm already starting to get 
buzzed." He gulped down another mouthful. 

Sarah drove fast along the narrow and winding tree-lined street, paying
more attention to her passenger than the road in front of them. Ryan 
stiffened and clutched the armrest on the passenger door. 

"You're not scared, are you? I had you pegged as the kind of guy who
liked to take risks. I'm a little disappointed." 

"Scared? No, I'm not scared. It's just that I've had some close calls
before. And cops hide out along here all the time." He reasoned as much 
with himself as with her and took another swallow. 

"The cops around here don't scare me." She laughed. 

"Okay, but ya...might... wanna...sloowdown...or ya get ah...ticket." His
speech came with effort, as the world around him grew increasingly 
darker. "Uhm...geddin predty... fug...." His vision narrowed quickly, 
as though he was looking through a shrinking camera lens. "Yup...preddy 
... fu". With labored breaths, he began to spiral out of consciousness 
and into a blackened void. 

"Nighty night, lover boy. Don't you look so sweet and innocent?" 

*** 

When Ryan came to, he was prone on the ground and surrounded by thick
groves of forest. Night had already taken over the sky, but the autumn 
moon was bright and provided ample light by which to see. Effects of 
the tainted drink lingered in his head. He sat up too quickly, 
enmeshing himself in a network of throbbing pain. 

"What the...where are we?" 

"Wow, she told me you were easy, but I thought there'd be at least a
little challenge." Sarah stood over him, holding a stainless steel 
snub-nosed revolver. "Don't you recognize this place? You should know 
it quite well. This is where you killed her." 

"What? Who? Killed who? I never killed anyone." 

"Laura. This is where you killed her." 

"Laura? I didn't kill Laura. What are you talking about?" 

"Well, maybe not physically, but you definitely killed her in an
emotional sense. You really messed up that poor kid's mind. She told me 
all about it and all about you. After you walked all over her and 
treated her like dirty water, she went crazy. She started lashing out 
at everyone. That poor girl did things that no one ever could have 
imagined. She cried all the time, and then she started hurting herself. 
She would scratch up her own face something terrible and say that she 
was trying to make herself 'un-pretty'. She even began cutting herself 
with razorblades. She had everything going for her. She was pretty and 
smart and had a nice family. Then you came along and destroyed her. If 
you had not raped her, she would have had a great life.” 

"Raped her? I didn‘t rape her. I never forced her to do anything she did
not want to. Besides, she came on to me in the first place!" 

"I don't care. Her willingness has nothing to do with it. She was only
sixteen and you were twenty. You should have known better." 

"But I didn't know how young she was!" 

"That really makes no difference to me now." 

"But I loved her!" 

"Loved her? Yeah, like you loved every other girl in every other play
you've ever been in." She stepped closer, with the revolver still 
trained on his head. "You never loved her. You probably didn't even 
like her. She was nothing more than another pretty trophy for your arm. 
Just another notch in your headboard, except you didn't even have the 
decency to take her to a real bed. No, you did her right out here in 
the woods like a freaking animal." 

"But I...She...." 

"No, you didn't love her at all." She interrupted. "I loved her. I still
do, but as long as you're still around, no one else has even the 
slightest chance with Laura." 

"Please don't. Please, don't kill me!" 

"Please, don't kill me!" She mimicked his plea. "Oh would you just shut
up already. Nothing you can say will get you out of this one, Mr. 
Hollywood.” She paused. “I bet your probably acting right now. Are 
you?" She looked closer at his face. "Nope. Those tears look real to 
me." She was amused. "If you do what I say, then just maybe I won't 
kill you. Now dig. There." She pointed behind him, to a large circular 
area of the ground that had been cleared of fallen leaves. A long 
handled shovel lay in the freshly turned soil. "And don't stop until 
you find it!" 

"Find what?" 

Sarah fired a shot from the revolver, narrowly missing his knee. "JUST
SHUT UP AND DIG! And if you stop, you're dead." 

Throughout the nighttime excavation, Ryan's mind had registered only two
sounds. The first was the shovel slicing into the ground and the 
second, his own exhaustive breathing. He had dug down about two feet 
when the shovel struck something solid causing the spade to slide 
forward. He lifted the shovel, and tossed aside the loosened earth. He 
repeated the process until he had cleared the perimeter of a 
rectangular box. He stepped back and removed an additional foot of dirt 
beyond one end. He used his hands to locate a handle and jerked the old 
footlocker free. The trunk was not as heavy as he had anticipated and 
its contents shifted and thumped as he dragged it to the surface. He 
cleaned the access latches with his shirt, but turned for further 
instructions before opening the locker. 

Sarah was gone. She had slipped away unnoticed into the surrounding
forest, but had left the revolver where she had been standing. Alone 
and freaked out by the day's events, Ryan rushed for the handgun. He 
was tempted to escape with haste, but curiosity quickly killed the 
thought. What was in the box? After everything he had just been 
through, he had to know. 

The slide on each locking mechanism was jammed, but after several
strikes with the butt of the revolver, the first latch sprung free. The 
second lock proved to be more difficult and between the futile strikes, 
he started hearing something in the distant darkness. 

Voices! 

They were voices; growing louder from within the woods around him.
Someone must have heard the shot and is coming to investigate. Help is 
on the way. He peered into the dark forest and saw a light dancing 
through the trees. As the light grew steadier, he heard running 
footsteps beating cadence along the packed trail and the sound of 
bouncing keys. Keys that clanged together like the chains of a ghastly 
spirit in a low budget horror film. 

"Over here! He's over here!" An army of police officers emerged from the
trees and surrounded him. "GUN!" A voice yelled out. Several officers 
drew their service weapons, pointing them directly at his head. "Move 
away from the box! Get down on your knees and place your hands on top 
of your head! NOW!" 

"But...I...” 

"SHUT UP AND GET DOWN! NOW!" 

Ryan complied and a herd of cops converged on him. In seconds, they had
jammed a pair of handcuffs to his soiled wrists. Shards of pain shot up 
through the length of his arms. A female officer knelt behind Ryan and 
opened the unearthed box. Silence blanketed the scene. 

"Oh God!” She spoke in a sullen, breathy whisper. "How could anyone do
this to someone so young, so beautiful?" 

Ryan was bewildered, uncertain of what she had found inside the trunk. 

Pictures! 

He suddenly remembered playing around with a camera one afternoon,
during one of he and Laura's love making sessions. That must be it, he 
thought. And that damn diary of hers. She used to write in that thing 
constantly; never letting him read her ramblings. 

“That bitch set me up.” He turned his head, attempting to confirm the
suspicion. 

The policewoman swung with the precision and power of a tennis pro,
striking him across the bridge of his nose with her baton. His eyes 
flooded instantly with blood-poisoned tears and he fell backward to a 
half-sitting position. A high-pitched ringing echoed through his head. 
"Somebody get that bastard out of here before I kill him!" 

Kill him? 

Ryan knew he was in serious trouble and might be facing a stiff sentence
for his inappropriate actions with a minor, but he had never hurt 
Laura. Why would anyone want to kill him? Why was he was being 
brutalized so badly for committing such a non-violent crime? 

A pair of burly officers lifted Ryan to his feet, but his legs gave out.
They struck him repeatedly, as they dragged him toward the wooded path 
by which they had arrived. He cocked his head in the direction of the 
old trunk and saw the female officer cradling the lifeless body of an 
unclothed infant, its skin mottled with livid discoloration. 

“What the.... Wait! I didn't do that!” He screamed to the female
officer, hoping that she would somehow believe him, or at least listen. 
“All I did was sleep with her...no wait, not her,” he said, motioning 
toward the child, “with Laura...Laura Davis. But I didn‘t do that!” 

“Shut up, you freaking monster. Just shut up!” 

Ryan saw the muted traces of a malignant smile on the woman's
too-familiar face. From underneath her uniform cap, Sarah Bishop winked 
at him. 

Ryan Mather had been looking for something new in life. Something new
found him.   

END 

copyright 2003 M. Richard Smith


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