Rain

Prequel to "Eyes". What helped drive Cassie to her mental state.

          Rain. It splashed the windows. It drenched the ground, the car, everything in sight.

          Cassie stared out her window, watching the sheets of rainfall. She smiled at looked up at the darkened sky, her gray eyes widening at the lightning that crashed through it.

          She looked up front, at the back of her mother’s head. She watched as her mothers brown curls moved ever so slightly in the breeze coming in through the cracked windows.

          Cassie wished she had curls just like mama. She wished her brown hair was curly, shiny like that. Not dull and straight, like papa’s.

          Cassie didn’t want to look anything like papa. In all her 11 years of life, Cassie had never wanted anything more then to never think of papa again. But she couldn’t help it. Papa was part of her life. He was part of the reason she existed.

          The car rolled to a stop, and Mrs. Granger peered back at little Cassie, sitting with her black shoes, gray stockings, and frilly, knee length black and gray dress.

          “Hi mama,” Cassie said, flashing an innocent, 11 year old smile. Her mother smiled, her face seeming tired, not nearly as bright as her daughter’s.

          “Hello Cassandra.”

          Mrs. Granger got out of the car, and pulled out a suitcase. Cassie got out her back door, and walked around, carrying a sketchpad and box of crayons.

          Cassie followed her mother to a door, and inside a gray motel building. Getting a room key, Mrs. Granger led her daughter up the stairs to room 27.

          “Mama?” Cassie asked as they stepped into the room. “I don’t like it.”

          “Don’t like what?” Mrs. Granger asked as she set down her suitcase.

          “This room. It’s bad.” Mrs. Granger laughed.

          “Oh Cassandra, you have such an imagination. This room is not bad; it’s nothing but a room. Now, you stay here, I have another suitcase to bring in.”

          With that Mrs. Granger walked out of the room. Cassie blinked and sat down on the bed, her crayons and sketchpad by her side. She sighed and looked around the room.

          It was small. A bedroom, with a little TV, and a bathroom. There was what some might call a kitchen, but no food could by made by that out dated microwave, and no people could sit at such a miniature table.

          Cassie opened her sketchpad, grabbed a green crayon, and began to sketch the small “kitchen”.

          She frowned as she made the table too wide, and wished so badly she had a pencil. Colored pencils would be so much nicer to draw with, but crayons were cheaper, and might last longer. And Cassie’s mama couldn’t spare any money.

          The only reason they weren’t home now was because Cassie’s home was too bloody to live in. Everything seemed to be coated in blood and gore, and Cassie didn’t want to stay there until it was clean again.

          Mrs. Granger came in carrying two suitcases a few minutes later. Cassie was still sitting on the bed, sketching the table. Mrs. Granger set the cases down and sat next to her daughter.

          “That’s very good, Cassandra, “ mama said. “Very good indeed. You’re going to be a wonderful artist someday, Cassandra.”

          Cassie said nothing, but kept on drawing.

          Cassie’s mama made sandwiches that night, peanut butter, Cassie’s favorite.

          After Cassie finished, she got out of her dress and put on an old and worn out pair of purple pajamas. She crawled into the bed next to her mother, who had a book out.

          “Good night, mama.”

          “Good night, Cassandra. Pleasant dreams.”

          Cassie rolled onto her side and opened her eyes. It was pitch black in the room. She looked around, and saw the clock with the big red numbers, sitting on the table said 1:37.

          She blinked, and her gray eyes darted around the room. They caught a flash of something near the door. Cassie sat up and rubbed her eyes, then swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the door, her bare feet making no noise on the dirty brown carpet.

          Cassie stopped at the door and whispered quietly, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

          She heard a rasping sound on the other side of the door and reached to the handle to unlock the door and twist it open.   

          That’s when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her away.

          “What are you doing, Cassandra?” Her mother asked, eyes wide.

          “I heard something. Maybe it’s a puppy.” Cassie had always wanted a puppy. Her mother shook her head.

          “Don’t open the door, you didn’t hear anything. Go back to bed.”

          “Yes mama,” Cassie whispered as she turned and made her way back to the bed.

          The next day was just as rainy as the day before. Cassie sat on the bed the whole day, drawing. It was what she did at home anyway.

          Mama got a phone call late that afternoon. It startled Cassie, because mama got so emotional during it. One minute she’d be screaming, the next she’d be crying.

          Cassie just locked her eyes on her sketchpad and drew a puppy.

          Once mama was off the phone, she opened the door and walked into the hallway. Cassie slid off the bed and walked to the door to peer outside.

          The hallway was opened to the outside, and mama was leaning on a rail, smoking a cigarette. Cassie stepped into a pair of worn out sneakers and walked out to her.

          “Mama, can I go outside?”

          “It’s too muddy, Cassandra.”

          “Please?”

          Her mother sighed and rubbed her temples with her free hand.

          “Oh fine. Just don’t go too far, be back by dark, and don’t get too dirty.”

          Cassie smiled and nodded. “Yes mama,” she said as she darted under the railing and through the parking lot, towards a small wooded area.

          Cassie slid under the low branch of a tree and smiled. There were many thick but short and heavy branched trees, perfect for her to climb.

          She was unsure of how long she spent climbing the trees, going deeper in with each one. But by the time the rain started again it was getting dark.

          Cassie slid down a tree and looked at her faded jeans, now dirty and decorated with new tears. She frowned. Mama would be very mad. She turned and began walking towards the parking lot, but after a few minutes stopped. She folded her arms and looked around her.

          The area was so small; she wasn’t sure how she could have gotten turned around. By now it was dark, and she was almost afraid to go back. Mama would scold her good.

          “Cassie…” Cassie whipped her head around, her brown hair, now damp with the light rain falling, flying around.

          “Hello?”

          “Cassie,” came the voice, soft and echoic. Cassie took a step towards it, and again heard the rasping noise. She smiled. She was so sure that was the sound of a puppy scratching against a tree.

          “Cassie.” Now Cassie was running to it, her sneakers sloshing in the mud. She came to a hollowed out area and stopped, the voice turning to many, seeming to swarm around her.

          “Cassie, Cassie, Cassie, CASSIE!”

          She jumped back and looked around, eyes wide, pupils dilated. Then, in the center of the clearing, something caught her eye.

          They seemed to be specks moving towards her, getting larger and larger as they neared.

          Cassie shrieked once they were clear in her view.

          Eyes. Human eyes of all colors floating towards her, dripping rain, blood, white pus, liquids all colors of the rainbow. Maggots wiggled from some. She covered her mouth, feeling vomit rising in her throat from sheer disgust.

          The rasping sound came again, and Cassie saw it was caused by two eyes’ corneas rubbing together when they bumped.

          She turned and began running away as fast as she could, her steps unsteady in the mud. She forced her way through the trees, ducking under low branches, pushing thinner ones aside.

          All at once she broke through the trees and into the dirt parking lot. She slipped in the mud and feel on her stomach hard. She cried out, and forced herself up. She ran to the hallway, not stopping to look behind her until she was safe behind the railing.

          She clung to it and turned, looking out on the parking lot.

          Nothing. There was nothing but a few cars, rain, and lots of mud. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, smearing her cheeks with mud. Still nothing.

          Cassie sighed with relief and turned towards her room door. She walked to it smiling. Any scolding and punishment mama had for her had to be better then those eyes.

          She opened the door and said, “Mama, I’m back!”

          Once the door was open Cassie froze and her face went stark white.

          Blood. It was all over. It splattered and streaked the walls, it dripped on the floor, it soaked the bed. Too much blood for one human body.

          Cassie walked deeper into the room and to the wall. She reached out and touched it with her hands, not believing her eyes. When she pulled them back they were red and warm.

          She looked over to the bathroom door and watched a few streaks of blood running down it. She walked to it and reached out a shaky hand, gripping onto the doorknob.

          “M-mama,” she called out. There was silence. Cassie’s hand tightened on the knob and she turned it, her hand slipping a bit.

          The door creaked open, and light from the room shined out. Why was the light on?”

          “Mama?” Cassie whispered as she opened the door. She shrieked when the door opened, letting go of the knob. It swung open completely and hit the wall.

          Like the other room, the walls and floor had blood on them, but what horrified Cassie was what she saw in the bathtub.

          Her mother was lying there, her blood pooling under her. She was naked, and from her neck all the way to her vagina was slit and pulled open like a book. Her innards were mashed and all mixed together.

          And mixed in with the mess were human eyes. They were open, staring at Cassie.

          The police arrived the next morning, altered by the motel manager, who had gone to tell the women her rent was up, and she needed to pay more up front if she wanted to stay longer.

          Cassie was found sitting on the bloody bed, her sketchpad on her lap. No one knew how long she had been sitting there.

          An officer leaned down and forced a smile at Cassie.

          “Hey there sweetie,” he said. She didn’t looked up at him. “How about we get you out of here? My partner’s over by the door, and she’ll get you cleaned up and get you something to eat if you go with her.”

          Cassie slid off the bed, and the officer and sighed.

          “Do you think I could take your sketchpad? Just for a little, I’ll give it back.” Cassie looked at it, then nodded and handed it to him. She then walked towards his partner, who was standing at the door.

          The officered looked at the picture, then began flipping through the pictures, his eyes widening in horror.

          Every picture in the sketchpad was of mutilated creatures. He saw one of a dog, lying on its back, dismembered and rotting.

          But the most recent ones were what disturbed him the most. A picture of the girl’s mother in the tub, split and murdered, the walls covered in blood.

          And for some reason every picture had these random eyes mixed in with it all. The officer looked at the picture of the mother, then in the bathroom at her body, then back to the picture. It was too good to be freehand for a girl her age, but the eyes were in perfect placement and seemed to flow with the picture.

          But when he looked at the mother’s body in the tub, these eyes were not to be found.

Author's Note

Also ancient.