Chapter83 The Photos

"And; you're sure about this, Beth?" Cindy asks. "Yes, I'm sure; she said Helene." Beth's shaking; sitting in a crouched position on the couch. "And, she knew about the music box?" Deputy Hopkins inquires. "Yes." Beth solemnly answers before lowering her head and furiously shaking it side to side repeating, "This isn't happening! This isn't happening! This isn't happening!" Sheriff Faulkner and Martin return from town; both with vague expressions on their unusually pale faces. The sheriff uses the manila envelope he's holding to wave Deputy Hopkins, Cindy and Professor Rhyies over to the fireplace. Martin sits with Beth. Beth watches the others huddled by the fireplace looking at the photographs; listening to their barely audible murmuring while passing the pictures back and forth. Beth can't take it anymore, she needs to know; and, yells to them from the couch, "Let me see!" Martin takes Beth's chin in his palm, gently turning her face to look at him, "Beth, Hon; don't…" Beth speaks in a soft, broken-down tone, "I need to see, Martin…I need to… please." Martin succumbs to the pleading expression on his wife's face and gestures for Cindy to bring the photographs over for Beth to see. Cindy slowly walks over towards Beth; and, when she gets there, starts taking one of the photographs out of the envelope. "Okay, Beth; this is a picture of Vivian Steinman taken a couple years ago at a mayoral fund raiser for Al Cromwell." Cindy hesitates before forfeiting the photo over to Beth; who looks at the picture, and slaps it down on her lap. "So, if it wasn't Vivian Steinman; who was it? And, how did she know so much about what's happening?" Cindy looks down at the envelope, which still contains another photograph, then, slowly gives it to Beth; saying in a low voice, "Beth; this is a picture of…Helene Steinman." Beth hesitates while watching Cindy, who's looking down at the floor with her hands resting on her lap; then, takes in a breath of air as she grabs the top of the picture, and pulls it out. As Beth stares at the photograph, her complexion quickly turns ghostly pale; and, the others watch as the picture vibrates in her trembling hands. Her breathing becomes more rapid…almost sounding as if she were panting…as she squeezes her eyes shut; causing a stream of tears to be forced out from the pressure. Beth lowers her head, shaking it side to side and laughs… "Of course. Naturally it had to be Helene Steinman's ghost who stopped by to fill us in. Oh, God; this is just too funny!" The others sit and watch Beth continue laughing hysterically while having her little nervous breakdown. Unbeknownst to any of them, Mary's watching all of this. Mary's standing in the center of the barn looking up at the loft smirking; relishing in the thought of what will occur on the upcoming eighteenth. She's self-gloating; playing the night's events over and over in her mind. And then, she feels it; a sudden chill overcomes Mary's being as she enters the barn. Mary turns around; and, her smirk instantly transforms into a scowl as she huffs, "Helene Steinman." "Brother Dominguez." Mary places her hands behind her in the small of her back, and slowly sashays her way towards Helene. "I saw the little piece of family memorabilia you left for your daughter; how quaint. So, what brings you back around here…come back to hang out around…pardon the pun…one of your old haunts? Anyway; how long has it been now…let me see…oh…fifty eight years; if I'm not mistaken? Does that sound right to you, Helene?" Helene nods. "Something like that?" "You know; I never got the chance to tell you that was one hell of a distraction you pulled off that night. I was truly impressed; my hat goes off to you, Helene." "Whatever you say." "No, really, it was brilliant; a true stroke of genius. And, I must admit that I was truly touched by it. You must have really loved her; because not many mothers would hang themselves as a distraction for their daughter to escape." Mary pauses briefly; then goads, "Too bad about that whole snapping and turning into a raving, psychotic serial killer thing though; huh, Helene? Well, kids will be kids I suppose; what are you going do?" "That place made her like that." "And, me; don't I deserve some credit as well? After all, you weren't the only patient I would visit." "You're real proud of yourself; aren't you, Brother Dominguez?" "Whatever do you mean, Helene?" Mary asks while circling Helene; looking up and down at her. "You always did enjoy tormenting those you believed to be weaker than you." "Admittedly; I do enjoy a little torment here and there…from time to time…but, don't make it sound like I'm some sort of schoolyard bully targeting the weaker kids. My dear Helene, everyone's weaker than me; it's just the natural order of things." "I suppose my great, great, great Uncle Jebediah was weaker than you when he had you and the rest of your heathen brotherhood convicted and sentenced to death for partaking in black magic; Brother Dominguez?" Mary tilts her head back and laughs. "Oh please, foolish Helene; you give your ‘great, great, great' Uncle Jebediah way too much credit. He didn't defeat me; it was the circumstances of the times. In actuality; I allowed them to carry out their meaningless, petty victory over us. Why, you ask…because that made me even more powerful than before. Besides; look where Jebediah's actions got your family. How many Hawthorne's have been inflicted with my curse throughout the years now, Helene?" Helene smiles. "And, Chelsea?" Mary stops pacing; but, doesn't look at Helene as she asks, "What about Chelsea; Helene?" "Is she weaker than you?" There's a moment of hesitation on Mary's part before she replies, "Do you see her here, Helene?" "No;" Helene walks up behind Mary, bends down, and whispers in her ear, "but, you didn't answer my question. Is Chelsea weaker than you? Are you really stronger than she is, Brother Dominguez?" Mary spins around and yells, "Do you see her here?!" "Just as I thought;" Helene walks away saying, "you're afraid of her…aren't you; Brother Dominguez? You've always been afraid of her; haven't you? Yes…that's why when they were children, you only possessed Charles; and, left her alone." Mary gets that sinister little smirk back on her face. "What are you talking about, Helene; possessed Charles?" "Don't play dumb with me; I know you were behind Charles' violent tendencies. You made him do those things…whoever heard of a three-year-old getting a razor and slicing their nanny's throat open? That was you controlling his actions, Brother Dominguez!" "Oh please; you flatter me. Actually; you're giving me much more credit than I deserve. No; I'm afraid that was all Charles. He was quite the plucky little fellow; wasn't he? Too bad about that whole rape and murder thing in the institute though. He had such a promising career ahead of him; don't you think? Though, Chelsea did quite well in Woodland Falls for herself…even if it was under the self-induced pretense that it was Charles. All that senseless, bloody mayhem… yes, it was quite the homage paid to her dearly departed brother; wasn't it, Helene? Why, it even topped your own melee between that hammer and little Tommy's head…although, Chelsea received the credit for that. Oh, the good old days; how I do miss them so." "Enough reminiscing down memory lane for now; why are you here tormenting these people?" "Why? Why? Because I can…and, it's so much fun." "Because you can…and, it's fun?" Mary shrugs her shoulders. "Sure; why not? Do I really need a reason to do what I'm doing? Wait a minute…you're looking for some deep-down significant purpose for all this; aren't you, Helene? Sorry; basically it's just for kicks. But, if you really insist on having some sort of meaning or reasoning behind this; how about the fact that Beth and Anna are descendants from the Hawthorne line? Does that make you feel better?" "And, this elaborate façade of yours…pretending to be Mary and Tommy and Charles and Davey…what's your reasoning behind that, Brother Dominguez?" Mary folds her hands and taps her index fingers on her lips. "My reasoning behind that? Let me think…hmm?" She pauses briefly to pace around; still tapping on her lips. "I got it; how about this? Maybe it's because I just love fucking with Chelsea's already screwed up mind! Is that enough reason for you, Helene?" "She's going to stop you; you know?" Mary laughs. "Please, Helene; wake up! Hello! Chelsea's gone…out of here. She's moved on to wherever defunct, wretched little ghosts go to." She sarcastically continues, "Oh, I'm sorry…I forgot…you gave Beth the music box; didn't you? That's going to bring her back; right? Ooh, I better watch myself and behave before Chelsea comes back and punishes me. What ever shall I do?" Mary laughs again. "Oh Helene, you do amuse me so. That's one thing I can say about you Hawthorne's; you can make me laugh." "Well, Brother Dominguez," Helene starts pacing around Mary, "laugh now while you can; because when my daughter returns…and, she will…she's going to send you off to Hell where you belong." "Helene;" Mary exasperatedly huffs, "you're even crazier now than when you were alive. Your daughter isn't coming back; and, even if she does, she's not going to be sending me anywhere. And; she certainly isn't going to be able to help Beth get Anna back." "And, where is Anna?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" "That's why I asked." Mary smirks. "Yeah; well I'm sure a lot of people would like to know where precious little Anna is right now. I think for the time being I'll keep that my little secret; if that's alright with you, Helene?" Helene smiles back at the precocious Mary. "Suit yourself. Like I said before; have your fun now, because my daughter's going to take care of you later." "Do tell." "So long, Brother Dominguez; be sure to say hello to Phillip for me when you get to Hell." Helene exits the barn and walks into the woods. Mary stands at the barn doors yelling, "Your daughter's gone, Helene! That bitch won't be coming back!" Then, she mumbles under her breath, "She won't be back. She won't."