Chapter 5: The Old Gloom And Doom

The Clark Residence, Klimt RD, Fallon Creek, Michigan....

The black pickup truck that belonged to one Dee Clark had pulled into the drive of a very spacious tan-colored three-bedroom house with a large front lawn and an even bigger backyard where one could see the woods. Dee's keen eyes caught sight of the neighbors who had just moved in across the way and found them to be a welcome sight. It had been ages since any new blood had arrived in Fallon Creek and it was always good to see new people come and appreciate the sights and the location. There were plenty of people passing through at one point mostly due to detours and car troubles that brought them to Old Rusty's mechanic shop down the way but none ever had the desire to move in on a permanent basis. City life had just been something people were more accustomed to in this day and age. As the truck came to a stop, the brooding dark-haired teen on the passenger side sat with his arms folded and his keen eyes fixated on the house across the way recalling the faded red station wagon that had stopped by the old roadside store before heading into town.

Rick seemed a bit off as he focused his attention on the house and the car. The scent of something caught him by surprise as he made his way toward the place he'd been forced to call home despite wanting nothing more to do with the life he once lived. Dee had been quite a woman and it pained her to no end to see how her best friend's only living child had turned out, but she couldn't really blame him. It wasn't as if the world had been kind to the boy in recent years.

Dee entered the house opening the doors and lifting curtains to let the natural sunlight in. She made up her mind to cook dinner and turned her attention toward doing just that.

"You go in and get settled, I'm going to get dinner started," said Dee before tussling Rick's already unkempt black locks and making her way toward the kitchen.

Rick slicked his hair back and rolled his eyes. He hated when she treated him like he was still some clueless little boy that didn't know the true way the world worked. She'd been one bad night too late to preserve whatever innocence in terms of viewing the world he had left and she even knew it despite her best efforts to ignore it outright.

The ever-brooding teen ventured toward his bedroom on the farthest side of the house. It overlooked the woods and was as far away from the main part of the house as he liked especially when Dee's husband had been home.

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Rick's Bedroom, The Clark Residence, Klimt RD, Fallon Creek, Michigan....

Once inside, Rick took a moment to look around his bedroom before closing the door behind him. The room smelled of cigarette smoke and sweat from his various items in the hamper behind the door and his bedding was merely a jumbled mess amid the mattress and tossed about pillows from the last time he'd elected to sleep in this place. He walked over toward the window and raised it taking in the nice gulp of fresh clean air and allowing it to permeate through his formerly closed-in room. He took off his boots and stood at the edge of his bed. From there Rick set to work taking off his clothes and stripping in a rather quick fashion down to his black boxer shorts as he allowed his attire to crumble to the floor.

He stretched some, showing off his half-naked body and the tattoos he'd gotten to cover his greatest shame in the form of the bullet wounds left behind by a hired hitman sent to do his family in retaliation for some criminal his father, a known detective had put away for life during his extensive and impressive career. Rick could still remember the echoes of that fateful night when he'd gone out into the woods for a bit of fresh air and to gather firewood at his mother's behest.

Everywhere around him the images of the trees and the coldness had bid him to hurry as his ears picked up the first round of gunshots, it had been the result of his father's gun taking aim at the intruder who had eventually bested him with the help of an associate who had been wielding a gun as well. His father likely never saw it coming as they had taken him out first then Rick's mother who had stumbled upon the scene of he husband's dead body in the middle of their living room.

The hitmen proceeded to eliminate any and all witnesses and effectively killed everyone in the cabin aside from Rick who had still been gathering wood when he heard the commotion. He rushed back toward the cabin to at least save one of the smaller kids, but he was much too late and broke down when he saw the dead bodies of the younger twins, his brother and sister with bullet holes in their tiny bodies and blood pooling in their beds.

He had not had much time to mourn or get over the shock of all the blood and bullets when one of the hitmen cornered him and put a few rounds into his back and arm but the adrenaline had been such that he ran out the cabin and into the woods, woods he knew like the back of his hand thanks to all the summers he'd spent learning about them with his Godmother. He ran as his lungs burned as much as the holes in his flesh due to the bullets but it was to no avail. He had not taken into account the second hitman who had finally dropped him and sprayed the already ailing and heartbroken thirteen-year-old boy with bullets before he was set upon by a vicious and very large animal who had been stalking the woods late that night.

Rick recalled the sensation of shock and the warm oozing of his own blood before slipping in and out of consciousness before something stood over him growling and snarling for a time before whimpering and apparently trying to get his attention. The creature was hurt, possibly from the hitman's bullet as it hovered over the already bleeding out Rick dripping some of its own oozing blood onto the broken body of the young teen before whimpering again and disappearing into the darkened woods.

After several hours of lying on his back amid moist crushed leaves and soil, Rick managed to crawl his way back to town in the dead of night and finally collapsed onto his godmother's front porch leaving a trail of his own blood and debris behind in the process. He didn't know where he'd gotten the strength that night and it puzzled him all the more still.

Rick collapsed onto his bed amid the messy covers and tossed about pillows trying his best to suppress the memories of that fateful night when his life had changed so drastically. He'd only been thirteen back then and the world held so much wonder and possibility, now he'd been sixteen and nearing his seventeenth year knowing the world held more cruel certainty than anything he'd ever known.

He closed his eyes as he let his mind wander as the slow hours of the day began to fade and give way to the oncoming night. It had been something of a long day for him and he had no doubt that Dee would awaken him once she finished making dinner, as she hated to have to eat alone. As he drifted Rick found himself smiling at what she'd say if she knew he was once more back in the mindset of The Old Doom and Gloom.